The Master and The Puppet
by TheBookAlchemist
Summary: Francis Bonnefey is a street rat living in the streets of Paris. Arthur Kirkland is a multi-millionaire business owner. The two paths collide quite literally when Francis, at the age of ten, is caught and sold on a black market slave ring. Arthur is a cruel and cold hearted master who works Francis to the bone, no matter how hard he tries. But is there more to the ruthless Brit?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hey guys long time no write I know XD sorry, things got hectic with me from some arsehole hacking my email to graduation coming this Friday but I have a new story at last. This will be a bit of a darker themed story this time. For Master Arthur x Slave Francis and Allistor will probably make an appearance as well. That being said the first couple of chapters will be a collab between me and a fellow role player I met on omelge who I originally was doing an rp for this Idea with. I will give out user or email for they had requested me not too. Also before I get into this as well I would like to say that this is not a typical plot there will be throwing in a little twist at some point. So without much more rambling, enjoy and please be gentle with gentle with flames. Thank you for reading and if you have suggestions or want to tell me what you think you know where that pretty little review box is (^u^)/

Chapter One - That Fateful Day 

"Let go of me you imbecile!" Francis cried as he was dragged by the chains around his wrist waist and feet. Previously he had been one of the older street rats in the neighborhood since his parents had abandoned him when he was five. Now he found himself hauled up onto the stage in the middle of a black market slave trade bound in chains. He still struggled they finally forced him to his knees and kept him like that. Oh well he supposed he could just run away once they had sold him off to someone. It should be easy enough right? He asked himself as feisty blue eyes scanned the crowds. Everyone seemed to be local and he knew most of Paris's back alley's like the back of his hand.

"Up next is this feisty blue eyed street rat who has yet had the luxury of being broken and taught his place in this miserable world. Nor taught proper etiquette and manners of. And," The auctioneer smirked and paused for suspense. "He's a virgin~ for those of you looking for a new toy."

Francis flushed a little at the announcement an tugged desperately at his restraints despite knowing that it was useless, but he did not like at all like the idea of being used someone's toy. Did not like it one bit and was even further unsettled by how many sets of eyes lit up in the crowd.

"So I think it's fair that we start the bid at, say, seven hundred Euros."

Francis gulped as he saw how many hands shot up and and how many voices shouted various increases in price for him!"

Francis indeed not doubt that even how in modern days such thing as these existed, but how little one hears about them is enough to push it to the back of your mind. To think that you yourself would never find yourself being bid on like someone's piece of property. He supposed his recklessness was to blame for this.

He had been, the previous day, running from a market place with arms full of two bags piled high with food for the other much younger unfortunate souls who had been left behind by their parents to fend for themselves. He looked after them along with another boy around his age. Usually they ran heists like this together, safer that way, but lately he had been starting to get scared and wanting to stay low for a couple weeks.

Francis had disagreed. They hadn't taken that much food on the previous heist and it was going to be impossible to lay low for that long without a final run. He had tried so hard to make him understand that, but he wouldn't listen so it had fallen to Francis to make that final run since the lord had long since turned his back to them and luck was not on their side either. No one was just going to was going to just randomly show up and give them a year's supply worth of food. It was up to them to survive. It hadn't happened until after he had gotten back to their safehouse though.

He had been running for a good fifteen blocks through the thankfully hardly crowded streets. Their footsteps pounding on the pavement behind him drowning out everything but the sound of his thundering heartbeat that was brought forth by the adrenaline coursing through him.

Luckily he knew the back alleys better than the back of his own hand. So without thinking he took a sharp right around the corner then a left and ducked behind a random pile of boxes that someone had left there sometime ago. Making sure he hadn't dropped any of the goods he had had been carrying. After all they needed every little ort they could get. Only after he had heard the guards give up on finding him he poked his head out and smiled in triumph. He was always satisfied when he could outsmart adults. Outsmarting authority figures was a bonus though. It had been a while before he saw the base where the lived away from prying eyes, well after dark had fallen. The adrenaline rush had long since worn off. The bags in his hands weighed a ton, his body was achy and sore. Relief washed over him when one of the youngsters came out and smiled as she took the bags from him.

"Merci..."

"You look tired Franny. You should come in and go sleepy? Is your tummy rumbly?" She asked.

He nodded at her question as he helped her in. On any other day he would have corrected her grammar, but he was to tired. "But I still to make the rounds real quick."

"Kay...but couldn't you have Acelain do that?"

"Non, he's been too much of a coward lately to step on foot outside."

"Yeah...that's true...please come back..kay?"

Francis smiled and ruffled her head. "I will don't worry. Just a quick look."

She nodded and he closed the door afterward with a yawn. Rubbing at his eyes as he started to work his way around the safehouse. His guard barely up. He supposed that's why hadn't detected the hand bearing a chloroform soaked cloth coming at him sooner. Or if he had just had Acelain do it instead despite his fears.

"Half a million Euros."

Francis was snapped out of thoughts and everyone else fell silent as well when they heard such a high price being shelled out for nothing more than a street rat.

The Auctioneer however smiled. "Half a million Euros! Going once...going twice...SOLD! To the generous gentlemen in the back."

He couldn't remember much of the events that took place while he was being taken to his new home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Eight Years Later~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis sighed a little as he woke up that morning in his small room on his small cot that he had been given of course it was the ass crack. Of dawn but since when did that matter?

He got up and changed into his usual uniform, tying up his hair with a piece of old faded blue ribbon a little bird had brought him one time. It was in a short ponytail while the bangs hung down on either side of to frame his face. And the bandage he wore over his left eye. He hated the emerald eyed devil of a man he was left with. There wasn't a day where he wasn't covered in bandages and in pain as he laid down for bed in the evening. But that didn't mean he didn't do his job to the fullest of his abilities. Of course he or anyone for that matter (if they knew he existed that is) wouldn't know it with how beaten and bandaged he was.

"Merde...another day in hell..." He muttered before gathering his composture and silently made his way down the halls of the mansion to the kitchen. Drawing open the tapestries of the long windows that lined the halls as he went along where he quietly got started on breakfast and set the table.

He had just finished putting away the dishes he had used to cook after he appeared and he gave a respectful bow as he bustled over to pull out the chair for him. "Bonjour Master Kirkland. I have prepared one of your favorites for breakfast this morning." He said as he carefully pushed in his chair once he had been seated.

"Ah Master...may I please go to your room and collect your basket of clothes so that I can get started on the laundry?" He asked. Trying to hide the rear in his voice the more presence of him caused. Averting the gaze of his good eye.

Arthur glared at the man, after a moment he raised his right hand and backhanded him hard across the face. Look at me when you talk, slave!" He snapped. Putting emphasis is on the word slave, making sure Francis was reminded of what he was. "Honestly how long have you been working for me? Eight years? I didn't know someone could be so daft." He stared at the man for a few moments, satisfaction at the way he adjusted his injured legs and the bandages that covered him. "Go ahead, but I want you out of there in five minutes." He said as he picked up his fork and started to eat, watching Francis leave the room.

Francis bit back a yelp of pain as he felt the slap knowing it would only lead to worse things. "Sorry Master." He said with the faintest of trembles in his voice. Struggling to keep himself from stuttering and forced himself to meet Arthur's eyes. He nodded once he received the permission. "Yes, Master." Ugh...if he had a dollar for every time he had said master in the last eight years he would have enough to mount an escape.

He scurried off to do so. Of course Arthur's room was all the way across the house so there was no way he would be able to get there and back in five minutes, but he had only said in the room itself so that so that would be more than enough time. He finally reached the room where he quickly drew open the tapestries like he did to all the others and gathered up any articles of clothing and set in a basket before exiting the room and gently closing the door behind him. His feet next lead him to the laundry room where he got a load of wash going. He took a deep breathe and tenderly reached up to his still slightly red cheek before he padded his way back to the kitchen.

"Master Kirkland, will you be having any clients or guests over today so I may prepare accordingly?" He asked softly. Not wanting to get in trouble for raising his voice.

Arthur turned and said "You are late, be expecting a punishment later. And yes I have a guest coming. They will not be staying the night, they will only be here for lunch." Again Arthur stared at Francis for a few moments. "I do not even want the guest to know that you are here, let alone see you." Arthur's voice had a sharp edge to it when he said as such. "I hear one thing from my guest about you or if you are here and I will, well you don't want to know..."

Francis froze a little for only a mere second at the threat and was about to protest before he remembered the last time he had tried to argue back. He still wasn't sure how he survived...he never wanted that again. So he simply bowed his head a little. "I'm sorry Master." He murmured and then gave a quiet nod. "I shall be in my room getting the laundry folded. I will stay in there until you have finished. With your visitations. Would you like me to have Earl Gray tea and scones set out on the table before they arrive?"

A couple seconds ticked by as Arthur just stared at him and he shifted a little uneasily under his gaze. "That sounds a tad bit too quaint… Perhaps you could liven it up. Like add a few garnishes or something."

Arthur looked back to his food. "Why are you still standing there? I thought that you were going to your room." His voice had turned threatening and bordering on annoyed. "Well?! Get going!"

Francis nodded quietly at his order. "Oui, Master Kirkland. I will. I will be out at eleven."

"What have I told you about using that language?"

"Sorry Master..." He murmured quickly as he scurried out to the laundry and put the clothes in the dryer and in the dryer and got the next going. Afterwards he took refuge in his room and sagged down on his bed. Shaking as he tried to calm down, but he couldn't...he bit his lip. Well at least he had a hiding spot this time. Under his bed he had carved out a little trapdoor door dugout. Arthur would never think to look there. Or at least he hoped he wouldn't.

As promised at eleven, once Arthur was done with his breakfast, he made some nice fresh scones, a medium sized tray of sliced fruits with a light dusting of powdered sugar. He made a pot of Earl Gray tea and set two tea cups along with the tray and fruits and scones on the table and made it look very appetizing. Along with a pot of tea he had set out some creamer, honey, sugar and fresh lemon slices should his guest want to flavor up his tea a bit more. He took off and hung up his apron gather the four baskets of clean laundry and as promised was silently tucked away in his room, folding the laundry when the knock on the door announced the arrival of whoever it was Arthur was to meet.

Arthur pulled open the door, greeting his guest with a fake smile. He took them around the house, leaving out Francis's room. After a while of talking in the office they headed down to the dining room. They sat down to eat, and started talking. After they finished the food they headed back to the office and talked a bit more. Soon when the clock read half past eight pm the guest left.

Arthur smiled and waved to them before shutting the door and frowning. He started to head to Francis's room before quickly opening the door.

Francis went about his daily chores as if he were a ghost. Shuddering a little at the thought of what he would do if he were to caught being seen. Around twenty after eight pm when he vaguely caught the the two of them wrapping things up from down the hall in a separate room he hurried back to his own fearfully. Clambering under the bed and with a bit of a struggle he wiggle his way into the small space.

Clapping his hand over his mouth and hugging his knees to his chest. He startled silently as he heard the door slammed open. It was bad enough that he was still limping on both legs and already temporarily blinded in one eye, He needed at least one eye to see...otherwise he would be punished even worse for not doing chores because of something that wasn't his fault.

Arthur looked around the small room some more before walking out the door. closed it then started down the hall. Due to there only being one entrance to Francis's room Arthur would catch him eventually. He sat down at a chair right beside the exit to the hall. He looked around. If he had to wait for too long Arthur would probably just punish him worse than he already planned. He scowled before pulling a book out of one of the many bookcases scattered around the house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: No Mercy**

Francis soon after realized the flaw to his plan. He would have to come out sooner or later so he silently slipped out with a basket in his hand and slowly padded down the hall. Shaking a little. "I'm sorry Master..." He murmured as he set down by the door and hugged himself and looked.

Arthur snapped the book shut and turned to face Francis. "You better be sorry." He shouted. "Where were you hiding anyways?!" He snapped as he grabbed the Frenchman's hair then proceeded to drag him down to the basement, and to a room hidden behind a piece of loose wallpaper. Throwing the Parisian onto the cold bloodstained floor.

"WHAT DO YOU DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?! WHAT KIND OF SLAVE HIDES FROM HIS MASTER?!"

Francis flinched at the shout and was about to answer, but let out a yelp when he felt his hair grabbed. Murmuring frightened desperate apologies. He groaned when he hit the floor and glared up at him with his nonbanganed eye.

"The kind of slave who gets beaten senseless and tortured constantly when they didn't even do anything wrong you bastard!" He shouted right back.

You see the thing is with Francis is, over the last eight years he had been bent. He had never allowed himself to be completely broken. Bent as hell sure and he tried to stay on Arthur's good side.

Arthur seethed with fury, ripping Francis's shirt off he shouted "YOU'LL LEARN NOT TO TALK BACK LIKE THAT WHEN I'M DONE!" He grabbed a whip off of the wall and swung it down on Francis's back as he hard as he could, cutting into the scarred flesh.

"NOW BEG YOU SCUM!" He roared as red took over his vision, beyond pissed off.

Francis cried out in pain as he felt the whip cut into his back. He growled through the pain as he clenched his fists. Of course it was never just a normal whip the guy used. No, It was a cat o' nine tails. Nine separate strands knotted with shards of glass on the end. And it hurt. But not as much the humiliation of letting him be broken would. "You wish. I'll never beg for the likes of you."

Arthur glared then threw the who aside. He reached for a large chain. He wrapped it around Francis's neck. Putting one end through a small hole at the end of it. He pulled the chain tight. Choking him, and scarring his neck his neck at the same time.

"I SAID BEG!" Arthur shouted. Yanking the chain even tighter as he said this.

Francis gasped for air and clawed weakly at the chain around his neck as he struggled for air. "N-never...in a million years...I'd...rather...die…" He wheezed.

Arthur yanked the chain tight enough to starting cutting into Francis's neck. Scars sure to form. He watched some blood hit the floor before the letting go. He ripped the chain off of his neck. Instead wrapping it tightly around his wrists and pushed the end of the chain through a metal loop on the ceiling he yanked Francis off the floor. He managed to hook the chain through a metal loop on the ceiling and yank Francis off his feet as well. Afterwards he looked around for a moment before he spotted a bloody piece of cloth. Grabbing it off the floor and stuffed it in his mouth to gag him, then said, "You lost your chance for mercy…"

He reached over for a knife. Staring at his reflection for a moment in the dully shining blade before he started to carve a word into his chest, cutting deep into the poor man's body.

Francis collapsed to the ground, coughing as he gasped for air, but it didn't last long. He tried to struggle against the chain being tightened around his wrist. It was futile though and his feet scrabbled for something solid when he felt the solid ground disappear from underneath his feet. He screamed out (though it was muffled by the gag in his mouth) and grit his teeth. Tears of pain beaded in his eye as he clenched it shut. He cracked them open only slightly and saw that if he could get enough momentum going...he took a deep breath and then with all his strength swung his foot forward and planted a solid kick to a place where no man should be kicked as hard as he did and he swung himself forward again and quickly unhooked the chain from the wall. Hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

He wasted no time, for there was none to be wasted, in scrambling up. Bolting toward the front door. He had to make it. He just had to!

Arthur staggered for a few seconds before throwing the dagger and out of the pure luck managed to cut one of the tendons in Francis's leg. Making it useless until it healed. He slowly staggered to his feet. Taking a moment to regain his balance and shake off the pain. Then grabbed Francis and yanked him over to the wall. He put him in handcuffs and cuffed his feet too just for good measure. The man was now incapable of moving or attacking back for that matter. Arthur walked over and picked up the knife. He started to recarve the wounds he had already made, then moved onto making new ones, and retracing them as well.

"YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE ME ANGRY?!" He shouted before saying, "I bet you could find a way to work without that damaged eye of yours, the way I see it, I would be doing you a favor!" He grabbed a corkscrew.

Francis's eye brightened as he reached the basement door...and then felt his hopes crushed as he collapsed when he felt the tendon cut. Letting out a yelp of pain from his lips as he was dragged back to the room. His widened a little and he frantically shook his head before he let out another scream. It hurt. He just wanted it to stop...he..no. He couldn't do that. The moment he gave in he would lose. He blinked back tears of pain. Before glaring at him again. I wonder what people would think if they found out what a fucking monster hides itself behind that false gentlemen act you put up." He spat.

Arthur laughed at his wonderings and shrugged mockingly. "It is fake, but...well.." He ripped the bandage off of Francis's face then plunged the corkscrew in and turned, ripping the eye out of its socket. He took the bandage Francis had worn to cover the eyeand stuffed it into the empty hole to stop the bleeding.

Francis screamed again and clenched his hands. Gritting his teeth. After a moment he jut laughed a little. "You're pathetic." He muttered as he spat right in Arthur's face. He knew he should really shut his trap and take his punishment quietly, but he couldn't help it. If he was going to get punished he might as well make it for something. He looked him dead in the eyes and said with obvious hate "You big browed knuckle dragging cabin swabbing yellow bellied good for nothing limey English bastard."

Arthur wiped the spit off his face then stared at Francis. "Perhaps I should just leave you here alone...for a few days maybe a week…?" He said before grabbing the knife again and stabbing Francis in the arm. He made sure the knife was buried to the hilt before he pulled it out. He stopped suddenly, then walked over to the small table of tools. He took out a bag, then dipped the knife in the salt, it was sticking to the blood. He walked back over to Francis and started to stab his other arm with the salt covered blade.

Francis's eye widened a bit and he felt his heart skip several beats and he was about to say no, but he was cut off by another cry of pain and then more of a hiss of pain as he felt the salt in his wound. "Go ahead...you could leave me locked up in here for three months and I would still hate you. It'll be nice not having to see your face every morning...you wouldn't though. You're helpless without me. Especially in the kitchen."

Arthur glared and then said "I could survive just as well as any other human! You're lucky I don't cut out that tongue of yours! Git!" Arthur yelled as he started wrapping wire around his wrists that was attached to a lever which he walked over too and without hesitation slammed it down.

Francis just scoffed at that. "Says the one who set the oven on fire twice. The one who wound up flooding the laundry room with soap. The-" He was cut off by a scream as he felt the electricity rip through him for a good three minutes. The metal chain did not at all help lessen the pain at all either. When the currents finally stopped ripping through him he hung there limply panting and finally he felt his eyes starting to droop shut. Finally he could pass out from the pain.

"Oh no you don't." Arthur said as he injected a syringe full of liquid Modafinil (a drug that allows a person to stay up for forty hours straight with full mental capabilities) "I want you to be awake for every moment of your punishment..." He said with that ever present dark glint in his eyes as he threw the needle aside.

Francis whined in protest as he felt a surge of energy course through his veins that kept him from falling asleep. Then let out a strained gasp a little as he felt the volts tear through him, but he managed a glare. "I...I hope...you...burn..inhell...when you die..." He managed to get out as he felt the currents stop once more. "Go ahead do your worst." He managed panting for the moment while he could.

Arthur slammed the lever down, unlike most times where he took it one notch at a time. A large amount of electricity flowed through Francis. The cuffs only making it worse. Arthur pulled the lever up then slammed it down again. He repeated this until he was making starting to get bored. "I think I might leave those on. Not much point in taking them off anyways." He murmured.

Francis screamed out again as he felt the lever slammed down and currents jolting and convulsing his body. Tears ran down from his good eye and after the last couple of times...he couldn't take it anymore. All it would take is begging...he knew that...but was it worth it? His eye dimmed and lowered his head a bit. "Please Master Arthur...please no more.." He said in a near whisper. "Please...I can't take this anymore...I...I don't know what...wh-what it is I...I d-did wrong or...have been...b-but I….swear I'll change...I'll do anything please...just...stop...I'm begging you master...please..." He sobbed quietly.

Arthur stopped then said, "You finally gave in...Good. I was starting to get bored of what I was doing." Arthur took the wires off followed by the chain like shackles, letting him fall to the floor carelessly. "Get to your room. This time I will provide you with bandages, so you don't have to use that old torn blanket..." Arthur exited the room, leaving Francis all alone.

Shakily he, hit the floor and nodded. "Yes master." He immediately scrambled and scurried to his room. Collapsing onto his and looking at his tattered uniform. Sighing a little he pulled on a clean shirt and then stumbled to the door and took the bandages. "M-merci...I-I'm not important as you though and I've already wasted enough of your time" He murmured as he set them down on the small box that served as his nightstand next to his bed. "I-I'll take care of myself after I've made you d-dinner Master Arthur. It'll be ready in approximately fifteen minutes." Without another word he slinked off to the kitchen and immediately got to work on something to eat. He thought about taking a couple bites for himself seeing as it had been awhile since he had eaten, but then decided against it. Why waste food on the likes of someone such as himself? He set the table quietly. "Mon-" He coughed quietly to himself. "Master dinner is ready.." He called a bit hesitantly and it seemed that he hadn't caught the slip up which relieved him a little and then stood off to the side. Pulling out his chair for him and gently pushing it in once he was seated. He quietly and quickly took care of the dishes and turned to him. "May I retire for the evening Master?" He asked a bit fearfully. Afraid that even just a simple asking for a granting of permission would land him back in that room again.

Arthur watched him leave, then he walked out to the table. He went over to the another one of the scattered bookshelves and pulled the same book that he he was reading out earlier. When Francis walked out with the food he put the book and walked up to the table. After sitting down Arthur heard Francis ask a question, then replied with "Fine, but make sure you get some food. And don't bleed to death, I need you around." He turned his attention to the meal in front of him. He picked up the fork and started to eat, glancing at Francis as he left the room.

'For what a punching bag when you get bored? Since you can apparently get along just fine without me…' He thought, but didn't dare say it out loud. Instead just murmuring a "Yes master." He got out an apple and sliced it up along with a small bowl of warm water to clean out his wounds. "I hope you sleep well master..." He murmured. Making his way back to his own room. He first got himself patched up and sterilized which the empty socket which hurt. But he managed to do so. As he ate he sewed up his torn uniform. Then he used some scrap material of a faded sapphire blue and made himself and eyepatch to match the ribbon that held up his hair and the other dimmed eye of his. Finally he layed down for the evening, but thanks to whatever the hell Arthur given him he couldn't sleep. Finally he got up silently- for he knew there would be hell to pay if he woke Arthur up-for he knew there would be hell to pay if he woke Arthur- and made his way to one of the bookshelves.

He pulled off a couple books and made his way to the back porch. Seating himself on the steps and cracking open the first book. Enjoying the light night time breeze. It was extremely rare to find himself these moments of peaceful happiness. It wasn't long before he was competely lost in the world of the words on the pages in front of him. Reality tuned out. Guard completely dropped.

Arthur finished up the meal, leaving the plates on the table he walked to his room. Arthur changed out of his normal clothes and into his sleepwear. It felt a bit warm in the room, so he walked out to the balcony of his room. Slowly opening the doors he peered out at the night sky. Arthur walked out, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. He looked down, spotting Francis quickly. He didn't shout at him, Arthur just stared. He noticed Francis was reading, Arthur took note of the book, perhaps he could use it as a reward. He stayed and watched, to make sure that Francis would not run away.

Indeed Francis had thought about running away several times before, but where would he go? He had no money. No friends. No family. No one who would take him in. Arthur had home court advantage as he had kidnapped him from his home in France by the ones who had sold him. He was a nobody and if he even tried to run he might as well just take his life because his life because that would be mercy compared to what would happen if he were caught. He was trapped in this hellish maze and to he knew from the moment Arthur had dragged him here that he would never get out. A couple hours later he closed the last of the books with a quiet sigh and looked down at himself. "I'm just a scarred up waste of air anyway...no one would ever want to help...this I deserve...no one would ever love me…"

He murmured as he laid his head on his hands. Watching the sun start to rise before he slowly got up. Picking the books and silently slipped inside. He put the books back exactly as he found them so that there wouldn't be any evidence. He quietly went down the halls. Opening the tapestries as usual. Then he made his to the kitchen and got started on breakfast. Setting the table quietly as he and washing and putting away the dishes and then making his way to the table where he waited. Not too long after he heard footsteps and pulled out the chair for him to take his seat. "Good morning Master Kirkland. I hope you slept soundly. Cinamon rolls and Earl Gray tea. I hope this is to your liking." He said in a quiet doubtful voice.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm sorry I didn't post the new chapter yet. I was exhausted from the graduation ceremony on Friday. XD But depending on how long this chapter is I will most likely post a new one and also Arthur will only be ruthless for a little while longer. I'm sorry to z6ywkp dite Kurea-chan but I did warn you. Again shout out to Yukihara for encouragement. Anyway not much more to say so Enjoy and please be gentle with flames! (^u^)/

 **Chapter 3: An Unexpected Guest**

Arthur was literally falling asleep as he walked, not used to staying up all night. He stumbled down the stairs and to the kitchen. He stumbled down the stairs and to the kitchen. Tottering to the chair, and rested his head on his hand. Letting out a yawn.

"It's fine frog..."

He reached over and grabbed the handle of the tea cup and took a sip before and grabbed the handle of the tea cup. He took a sip before setting it down and moving the plate aside. Arthur laid his head down and fell asleep quickly. Not caring about what Francis was doing.

Francis finished sweeping and came in to put the broom away and noticed the sleeping Brit and after a moment he sighed. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't..." He muttered in French before he ever so gently picked him up, thankful that he wasn't to unrealistically heavy and quickly glided down the hall to Arthur's room and gingerly laid him down. Tucking him in and leaving the room silently and going about his chores.

Around fourish he made another fresh pot of tea and some nice scones with white and dark chocolate drizzled on top. He set it on a tray and made his way back to the master bedroom that might as well belong to a prince gave a gentle, light tap on the door and quietly called. "Master Kirkland are you awake?"

Arthur was still asleep, but Francis's voice woke him up. He let out a groan before saying "Well now I am frog!" He pushed the covers off himself and tried to smooth his hair down. He slipped out of bed and padded over to the door. Opening it he stared at Francis with harsh expectancy. "Well what the hell do you want?!"

Francis flinched back a little with a quiet fearful whimper. "J-je sui...je sui...I..I j-just th-thought you...m-m-might want a bite t-to eat...s-since you fell asleep at breakfast plsease don't punish me Master. I'm so sorry! I swear it w-won't h-happen again?" He begged as he started to shaking a little.

"Well now that you mention it I am a bit hungry...just don't go around waking people up! I Do Not Want This Happing Again, Understand?! And what did I tell you about that about that unintelligent language?" He yelled, rage filling his words.

"Go clean or something. Or whatever the hell it is you do here!" He snapped as he took the tray of food and slammed the door to sit down and eat.

Francis nodded quickly. "Y-yes M-Master….crystal clear..." He scurried off to continue about his chores. It was around sixish while he was working on some nice filleted in a mango coconut puree when he heard a knock at the front door. He froze and started to go back to his room so that Arthur could answer it, but after a short while when he didn't come down he bit his lip come down he bit his lip a little and made his way to the door. He took a look through the peephole and to his surprise it was Allistor...Arthur's older brother. He usually came once a month to visit, but he had just been here a couple days ago. As usual he didn't know about Francis, but Francis had caught glimpses of in the past. He liked him. His voice was was kind...a bit on the gruff side, but not fear inducing like Arthur's. His green eyes were kind and more of a Forest green...not a cruel and cold emerald green.

Francis bit his lip a little. Maybe...just maybe, he decided to come back and stay for another couple of days...maybe he could have a friend...for a couple of days. So finally he slowly pulled it open. "Bo-" He coughed a little as he gave a small bow. Pulling the door open. "Good evening Master Allistor, please come in..." He murmured as he quietly stepped aside.

After he had finished his food Arthur got dressed and started going over some paperwork when he heard the knock. He got up and started down the stairs. 'I didn't have any visitors today.' He thought as he went down one of the halls. Arthur got to the door a minute after Francis opened it. "Allistor!?" He asked in confusion.

Francis froze for a moment when he heard Arthur's voice and then he quickly bowed and scampered off to the kitchen fearfully...oh God...he had messed up big time. What was he thinking?! NO one was supposed to know about him. He finally managed to calm down a little. No turning back now. He just made his way back to the and resumed his cooking. Vaguely picking up on their conversation. Please let him be staying for a couple days...please lord...a-at least a couple a week." He thought to himself.

Arthur walked straight up to Allistor and said, "What the bloody hell are you doing here!?"

Allistor frowned then said, "Can't I visit my little brother? Or is he to busy with 'hard work' to even write?"

Arthur scowled. "Francis, prepare one of the guest bedrooms. Allistor will be staying with us for a while." He said through angrily gritted teeth. Turning sharply on his heel and marching up the stairs afterwards with a slam of the door.  
That left Allistor in the open doorway. He rolled his eyes after a moment and stepped in. Shutting the door behind him he set his bag down and looked around.

Francis immediately scurried back out of the kitchen when he heard his name called and nodded a bit. "Y-yes Master Arthur." He said quickly. Turning to Allistor next.

"Th-this way Master Allistor." He said quietly as he led him up the stairs (masking his pain) and in turn down the hall to the other master bed and set the bags down.

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes." He quietly left the room. Pulling the door shut after him. He gave a quiet knock on Arthur's door as well and informed him of this before scampering back down to the kitchen and setting the table.

He had just finished doing so when he heard two sets of footsteps. Francis stood by and quickly pulled out both chairs and pushed them in gently.

"I hope dinner is to both of your likings..." He murmured as he went over to the sink. Quickly he got a bucket of warm soapy water as well as a mop and silently exited kitchen.

Allistor thanked Francis, unlike Arthur who just sat there silently fuming at his brother.

"Why do you really here!?" Arthur asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Because I can?" Allistor said before mumbling something about a script.

"Because you can is not a good answer!" Arthur shouted, losing his temper almost immediately.

"Aww, poor Artie, you're always so sensitive.." Allistor said with a snarky and teasing smirk on his face.

"SH-SHUT UP!" Arthur shouted, his face going red at the nickname. "I-I'm NOT SENSITIVE!"

Francis looked up from where he was mopping the floor out in front of the door where some mud had been tracked in. and laughed a little. Silently to himself of course. He always felt better when Allistor was around. Even if this was the first time the other had seen him. He came in a while a later and set the mop on the back porch to drip dry and disposed of the dirty water down the sink. And then scoured it out twice, washed his hands, and dried them off using the dish towel that sat draped over the oven's handle.

"Is there anything that you would like for me to get you Master Arthur? Master Allistor?" He asked quietly as he tried to ignore the throbbing of his empty eye socket.

"Ah...my apologies...Master Allistor. The house is such a mess right now. I promise it will be better tomorrow." He murmured even though every inch of every room was so clean you could off of it...He had been made to do that one time after all. When he hadn't been able to finish the dishes because of how much pain he was in a couple years ago.

Allistor laughed. "Compared to my place, this is amazing!"

That was the last for Arthur. He got up and left the room. His face was bright red in anger. Allistor broke out in laughter and yelled "ARTIE YA LOOK LIKE A BEAT!"

A book was sent flying down the hallway, showing that he was done with him.

Allistor turned back to Francis. "Why don't ya fix yerself a plate of food? I'm sure there must be extras! You look half-starved!"

Francis bit back laughs that threatened to claw themselves from his throat, but he jumped back a little fearfully and raised his arms when he saw the book come flying. Once he realized it wasn't at him he slowly lowered his arms and started quietly clearing Arthur's dishes.

"Non...I'm not hungry..." More like not allowed to eat but he wasn't going to say that. "Thank you for offering though, Master Allistor. I only make enough for Arthur and of course if he has guests then for them as well. Master Arthur does not like the same thing twice back to back...and I don't like leftovers that won't be eaten cluttering up the fridge." He murmured as he clutched at his eye patch. The faintest of whimpers elicited from his lips. Finally after about three minutes felt the throbbing die down and he righted himself. Carrying on with clearing the table like nothing had happened.

"Master Arthur is usually up by half past eight in the morning for breakfast. I don't know if you are a morning person or not..b-but if you give me a time you would prefer instead th-then I can arrange for brunch in bed for you so you don't have to be up earlier than you like..." He offered as he started making his rounds and drawing shut the tapestries.

"I don't usually have a set time schedule, but...I could try and get up when Arthur does. No doubt that he will just barge in anyways..." Allistor looked over at Francis, mostly looking at the bandages. His gaze slowly stopped at the eye-patch, it seemed to be the worst of the wounds.

He broke his gaze though, and got up, spotting the book still lying on the floor and picked it up. Combing the shelves for an empty spot where he gently set it down.

Turning his gaze back to Francis he finally asked a question that was sort of starting to eat him. "Are ya okay lad? Ya have quite a few bandages." He seemed to be genuinely concerned for the young man, and furthermore what had been happening in this house behind closed the doors. "Not to be invasive or anythin, but are these here because of Arthur?"

Francis looked up a little when he saw him reaching for the book and started to hurry over. "Ah you don't have to….trouble yourself with that..." His voice trailed off and he looked down a bit. "My apologies...I should have been moving faster..." He murmured with a slight shakiness in his voice.

At his question he looked down enough to his face behind his bangs and slowly wrapped his right arm around his left and gripped the sleeve a little. With a shake of his head. "No, Master Allistor. I am just a daft klutz who constantly trips over his own feet...a lot..." He murmured quietly.

Allistor frowned a little and a slight seriousness seeped into his tone. "Tell me the truth. Because if someone fell this much they would probably have moved six feet under, put in a coma, or paralyze by now. Did Arthur do this to you?"

Francis gripped the material of his sleeve now with now white knuckles and his frame started to shake a bit more as he gave the smallest of nods. "Yes...I didn't follow Master's orders. I got what I deserved...it's been like this since he bought me eight years ago. I'm used to it." He looked down as far as he could. "I don't even want to think about what he's going to do to me once you leave…" He grew down right terrified as he realized what he was saying and started to shake and tremble noticeably now and just hugged himself tightly and if he had a tail it would have been tucked between his legs. "P-please..."

Allistor stared at the man, if Arthur was capable of this in one of his rages it made Allistor wonder how the cute little boy that had been his brother grew into this..

He stared in disbelief, before realizing what was happening and what Francis was saying. "Calm down. I won't tell him..But I don't like this. Why haven't heard about you at all, all these years?"

Francis did not calm at all. He was terrified nervous wreck. "Wh-when company is around...I'm not here, according to them...and him...he doesn't speak of me at all. Mention my name. None of the work or cooking is credited to me. Why should it though? I...I mean look at this place. It's filthy. I'm such a terrible housekeeper. I got good at making myself not here after the first two or three times that one of his guests asked him about the blonde haired man whom was darting around a corner...thank you for not telling him."

Allistor listened and the more he did the deeper the frown etched on his face. "Aye. Don't mention it." He turned and started to head up the stairs towards Arthur's room, a dark rage having started to simmer, then grow to a boil inside of him. He went to the room and didn't even bother knocking, just slammed the door open. Then locked eyes with equally infuriated emerald eyes.

Allistor shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure so no one would interfere with their argument. The two brothers instantly started going at it. Yelling and throwing insults that grew to punches.

Francis grew petrified as he saw the darkened look in his eyes and when he saw him starting up the stair he reached out instinctively and caught his sleeve, but it was easily pulled away. He tried again to stop him from whatever he was planning on doing, to no avail. As he heard the argument start up he froze before he turned and tail and ran faster than an Italian in retreat to his room. Hurriedly closing the door and worming his way into the dug out under his bed and hugging his knees to his chest. Shaking with fear.

A loud smashing noise was heard from upstairs before a cry of pain. The shouts only got louder, even though from where Francis they could not be understood. Another loud shout came with a thump. A bit of silence followed before someone let out another cry of pain, this time it was louder though. It seemed like the end of the fight was growing near, having been almost an hour since it had started. Another sound came from the room, it seemed like someone was shoving someone else against the wall.

Francis about fifteen minutes after listening had clamped his hands over his ears as he heard the fight drawing to an end. Clenching his eyes shut as he tried to tune it out. He was so terrified. So sure that at any moment Arthur was going to come crashing through the door and find him and drag him down to that dreaded room and never let him out. 'Don't let him find me don't let him find me don't let find me' was all that went through his head over and over. Like a silent mantra or a desperate plea to the Lord that he did not believe in.

The fight had finally drawn to a close. Neither of the two left unscathed from the fight. Allistor walked out of Arthur's room, hearing Arthur slam and lock his door behind him so he couldn't just barge in again. Allistor went down the stairs and to his room, well the room that had provided, not wanting to lash out at the parisian for one small thing. He wanted to keep his anger directed at his brother, if that would make it any easier to control. He locked his door and sat down on his bed, starting to wish that he could get the poor Parisian out of this place.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the cheesy chapter title. Couldn't think of anything else that wouldn't give something away. ^^'

 **Chapter Four: A Series of Unexpected Events**

Francis stayed cooped up under his bed for most of the night. Finally falling into a light rest underneath, since he felt just the minimalist bit safe. The next morning he woke as the sunrose, even if it physically didn't shine down on him it was just habit by now. He couldn't sleep in even if he wanted to or were ever allowed to, and quickly scrambled out from underneath. Gathering his composure with a deep breath as he headed to the kitchen and got to work on Corn Beef Hash for breakfast. Along with a pot of tea of course. No later had he set the table and got the food served and dishes washes he started to hear footsteps coming down the hall. Just like clockwork, and he started to shake a little.

"G-good m-morning, Master Arthur. B-Breakfast today is Corn Beef Hash, w-with Earl Gray tea of course." He said in a strained voice as he pulled his chair for him.

"Shut up _slave_!" He shouted, still mad from last night. There was a new cut going across his right cheek, from the fight the previous night. His Emerald eyes pierced Francis, with all the rage inside still simmering, close to a boil.

"Will you hurry up?!"

As he sat and ate and Francis got to work on his daily chores he started to point out every little mistake Francis made, even if he hadn't made one he would make something and did what he always did these days. Take out his stress and anger on the man and blaming him for everything that had happened. Which only made it more dangerous for Francis.

Francis flinched back the slightest bit at the rage dripping off of word that was shouted at him and nodded fearfully. Once Arthur had started to eat he frantically started to scurry about as the list of chores for the day was shouted at him. Moving right on to the next after completing the last and by the time he had completed lastest task and redoing the last fifteen over a third, some even a fourth time, and still heard him pointing out mistakes he felt like he was going to cry. It was around noon by that time and thankfully Arthur had disappeared by then to go do whatever, that he finally got a break.

He did not fail to notice though, through all the running around, that Allistor had not come down for breakfast yet. So he made Arthur's lunch and set the table for him as usual and then made his way to Allistor's room.

Francis was hesitant though. Once he had found himself face to face with the white silver knobbed door. He knew Allistor should eat...but he remembered what happened last time he had woken someone up. The only thing that had saved him had been that Arthur was actually hungry. What if Allistor wasn't hungry. The tray started to rattle quietly as stood there in silent debate with himself as tears were dredged up. If Allistor wasn't exactly the same as Arthur all it would take is him complaining to his brother that he had been woken up by Francis. Even if Arthur didn't necessarily like his brother he was always looking for an excuse to drag him down to that god awful room.

Knocking finally won...and he just barely tapped the door with the tip of his pointer finger three times and merely uttered Allistor's name under his breath as he struggled to hold his posture from how badly his body was aching. He also tried his best to stop the shakes which had stopped from his calming down, but had continued because of how little he had eaten lately, his blood sugar was low, but he couldn't.

Five minutes passed as he waited with the somewhat clinking and rattling tray and still the door was not answered, so he turned and started to go back to the kitchen when he heard the door open. Looking back he hurried back to the room with a bow. "Y-you...you w-weren't present f-f-for breakfast s-so I brought you...s-some lunch i-i-i-if you were hungry." He explained in hesitant murmur as he carried it over to the coffee table. However, thanks to his being all kinds of worked up, in pain, and his blood sugar being low, he forgot about the way his sight was thrown off now and how things appear closer than they were. He let go of the tray and jumped when it hit the floor. Spilling food and drink and broken glass all over the doubled padded white shag carpet.

For a moment he stood where he was, petrified at the thought of what would happen when Arthur found out he had stained his perfect white carpeting before he ran out of the room with a stuttered apology to get the needed tools and supplies to clean up the mess. In his hurry though his foot hooked under the rug that was kept over the wooden floors in the hallway and he tripped. Letting out a yelp as he hit the ground with a heavy he just gave a quiet sob as he started apologizing and saying something French as he started to push himself up slowly. Obviously in pain.

Allistor watched him as he dropped the tray, then dart out the door. When he heard the thump he ran out and helped him up. "Are ya okay?" He looked down the stairs and back at him before saying, "Arthur is overworking you, isn't he?" Without waiting for Francis to respond he pulled him back into his room and sat him down on the bed.

Francis sat on the bed only for a moment before he started to get up again. "Not allowed to rest...too much to do...clean up the spilt food, broken and make you a fresh plate. Clear Master Arthur's dishes and wash lunch dishes, mop the kitchen floor...dust and arrange books neatly and in order on shelves...clean all three bathrooms...vacuum the living room and the other eight guest rooms..make dinner...set the table...do the dishes..." His head was starting to spin a little as he teetered a little. Making his way back to the hall and grabbing the cleaning tools he set to work cleaning up the mess.

"I'm sorry Master Allistor for such a rude awakening...I'm so pathetic...can't even figure out how to set down a tray...for sure Master Arthur is going to be made when he finds out I broke part of his set..." He murmured.

"No sit down! You are in no condition to work and this is the only mess that I have seen in this house so far!" Allistor followed him out and took the cleaning supplies from him. "Continue on like this and there will be no house to clean!" He snapped. This time he picked Francis up and laid him on his bed then started to clean the mess himself. "Don't you move from that bed, because even if you tried, you would still make the mistakes with your condition."

Francis shook his head quietly as he was told to sit. "I sit my orders. If they don't get done to HIS satisfaction I can't eat tomorrow morning..." He shouted in frustration as he started to get up again only to sink back down onto it with another dizzy spell. "Damnit...it doesn't help though when one of my achilles tendons were cut..." He clutched at the eye patch a little and finally took it off. Picking up a small hand mirror on the nightstand to look at the empty socket. "Least it's not infected..." He murmured as he sunk down onto the pillow and his eyes drooped shut.

Allistor finished cleaning, then looked over at Francis. He smiled, knowing the poor guy was finally getting some proper rest, then started down stairs. He headed towards the study. Knowing that Arthur liked to go there. He opened the door just in time to hear a voice saying "Francis you're lat- Oh...you..."

Arthur glared at his older brother, the tension in the air skyrocketing almost immediately. Allistor finally broke the silence. "Why do you keep him? Knowing you, with the amounts of 'mistakes' he has made, you would have sold him by now.."

Francis's eyes drooped shut entirely and vaguely heard him going out. 'I can't get used to this though...he'll only be here a couple more days. Then it's back to being Arthur's mercy...this is the last time...then I have to put my foot down…' He thought to himself as all turned to black and for once he wasn't pitched into nightmares. The bed was so comfortable, like floating on a warm cloud that handle him with fragile care. He shifted a little and curled up like a little ki. Wrapping his arms and legs loosely around one of the bigger pillows.

After all they had piled up old bean bags and mattresses for themselves back at the safehouse in Paris, but more often than not he would usually sleep on the floor so the littler kids could get proper sleep. So this was the first time he had ever slept on something so comfortable.

Back with the two brothers a new flow of anger filled Arthur as he stood up. "WHY WOULD I WANT TO SELL HIM!? I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE BLOODY MISTAKES! I JUST DON'T WANT HIM TO LEAVE!" He shouted.

Allistor took a step back in surprise at the answer.

"And you threaten the chance of him staying..." Arthur said. His voice grew dark and threatening.

Allistor slipped out, not wanting to get any more bruises and cuts.

Francis was snoring lightly in his sleep now as he murmured in French every now and then. However about an hour later he was pitched into a nightmare as he gripped the pillow tightly and his breathing became panicked. He let out whimpers and groans of pain in his sleep.

Allistor walked to his room after taking a little while to himself to walk the grounds and calm down. Slowly opening the door so he would no wake Francis. He peeked in and noticed the telltale signs of a nightmare so he walked over and took the Frenchman's hand as he seated himself on the edge of the bed. Trying to calm him.

Francis jolted awake as he felt his hand taken and yanked it away as he pressed himself against the wall and curled up in a ball with his arms up to protect the more sensitive parts of his body.

"Please no more I...I...I won't use that language ever a-again. I-I promise...please no more..." He begged as he pulled his arms over his head. After a couple seconds he realized he was awake and he slowly uncurled. "J-je suis...Master Allistor...I..I was startled from waking up so suddenly. I'm...not used to people trying to comfort me..."

He crawled over to the edge of the bed and slowly got up. "Thank you for letting me sleep for a little while, but I must get back to work...I'm just a holler away should you need something…." He said quietly as he darted out of the room.

Allistor frowned as he watched Francis leave the room...wanting to just pull him back and shield him behind his back from the cruelties that his brother forced upon him. With a sight he leaned back in the chair and let his mind wander. He wasn't really up to chatting with Arthur right now.

Arthur was sitting in the study, a terrorizing atmosphere around him. He was working on papers for his company, signing documents and what not. He reached for his pen and knocked a whole stack of papers on the floor. He cursed as he picked them up, still with fresh anger awaking the old one.

Francis practically ran back down to the kitchen and hurriedly got started on making Arthur's afternoon tea and scones and then reluctantly gave a shaky quiet knock. "M-master A-Arthur...I...I have brought you your afternoon...t-tea..." He called in a bit of hesitant voice.

"Well then hurry up and bring it in!" He snapped as he set the paperwork back on the desk. He grumbled as he started to arrange the said papers again. Having to reorganize the whole pile.

Francis quietly came in and brought it over but thanks to how low his blood sugar was his were shaking and occasionally twitching or jumping now. He was in the process of setting the tray down when his hands did just that and the teacup wound up tipping over and spilling Earl Grey tea (which was a terrible waste of Arthur's favorite) on the stack of paperwork. Francis froze as he watched in slow motion. Before he took a couple steps back. His eyes widened as he shook.

"M-m-master….I...s-so...s-so sorry…." He murmured.

Arthur stared at the tea covered papers on his desk for a few minutes before slowly looking over at Francis. "...Did you...just spill….tea...on my paperwork?!" Arthur was literally shaking from fury as he got up and roared "THAT TOOK ME HALF A DAY YOU DAFT GIT! AND YOU WENT AND MESSED IT ALL UP BY SPILLING FUCKING TEA ALL OVER IT!"

Arthur grabbed the paper and threw them at Francis, then flipped the tray over as he got up. "I want you to find me a copy of every single one of those and bring them to me by three...you have thirty minutes..." He said before he got up and left the room, a loud locking noise coming from the outside.

Francis started scurrying about the room as he tried to do so, but he didn't know the first thing about where or how to find paperwork for a company for christ's sake. The thirty minutes went by far too quickly as he sank to his knees and looked down in shame and fear. He heard the door being unlocked and he swallowed nervously at the sight of a pair of all to familiar dress shoes.

"I-I'm ready...f-for my punishment...I've been nothing but trouble all day...it's only fair you take out your anger on me...especially...after what I did to all your hard work."

Arthur growled. "You're damn right..."

He kicked Francis before saying, "Get up!"

He waited a few seconds before grabbing him and yanking him to his feet then pulling him down to the basement, then through the secret entrance. He cuffed Francis up again. This time not cuffing his legs.

Francis gasped as he felt the foot connect with his chest and he was sure he felt a rib or two break, judging by the audible crack and the sudden sharp pain. He started struggling to get up but yelped quietly as he felt Arthur dragging him by his hair. He allowed himself to be cuffed and dragged to the room. Not even struggling a little.

Arthur started to wrap a bit of wire around his fingers with a long trail extending off of it, forming a homemade wire whip. He walked up to Francis, then swung his hand down, leaving a long crimson gashes across his back. He did this again and again, until the skin on Francis's back had been cut to ribbons.

Francis took it in silence. He deserve this. Every painful slice ripped by the wire. What room did he have to complain when it was his fault in the first place. His only concern was going to be treating his back...oh well.

"What's next on your list of toys eh? Slitting open the bottoms of my feet and filling them with marbles before stitching them back up?" He knew he really shouldn't give him any ideas but honestly...he didn't really care anymore.

Arthur looked at his handiwork for a moment. "No love, I'll save that idea for a rainy day." He said harshly.

Instead he reached over and grabbed a saber. He turned to swing it then stopped. "No...this is no good..." He frowned before setting it down. "..."

He looked around the room, before locking his eyes on the salt. He went over and took a handful. Arthur walked over to Francis then lifted his eye-patch and dumped the salt in. Afterwards pulling back over the socket again.

Francis whimpered in pain and gnashed his teeth. His good eye tearing up as it squinched shut. His nails digging into his palms. "P-please...please stop..." He begged quietly. "Please...M-master Arthur..." He whimpered a bit more and even though he knew it was selfish a very small part of him in the back of his mind wished that Allistor would come and save him from the clutches monster, but no one knew about this room. Arthur made sure of that...he knew it was impossible.

"Shut up! Or do you want me to take out your other eye?!" Arthur shouted, before dumping the rest of the salt in. He started to punch Francis, letting his full out rage explode from him He kept punching him over and over again. After around the hundredth punch Arthur started to pant. "J-just shut up.."

Francis cried silently until he was two broken and beaten to even utter a whine. Just hanging there with occasional tears trailing down as he went to his happy place...not asleep...just...away...to a place where he lived a peaceful...maybe as a winemaker...or a sheep herder...in a tidy little cottage...with someone who loved him. His body not marred with scars and beaten...where the only fear was the wolves getting his sheep. The only times he got hurt would be falling or maybe burning himself on the stove. How he longed more than anything for something like that. Sadly he was pulled his thoughts when he heard Arthur's voice. Slowly blinking a lifeless blue eye as he looked at him. Simply waiting for the next cruelty to be bestowed upon him.

Arthur unlocked Francis's shackles, then let him fall to the floor carelessly. He pocketed the key again and stared at him, his eyes dim. Unlike their normal soul piercing emerald. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again, and turned to walk out. He pushed open the secret entrance and then locked himself in his room. A faint noise that sounded a bit like muffled crying echoed out, before it was muffled.

Francis struggled to his feet. Each step agony before he gave up and crawled up the stairs. Then leaning against the wall as he gasped and whimpered. Seeing three of ribs had been decently cracked. He grabbed a small basket of supplies out of the first aid cupboard and crawled up the stairs and tottered his weak and more of slumped against Allistor's door more than anything else. "P-please...m-master Allistor..I...I need help...I can normally...bandage m...myself...up...b-but...I can't…." He rolled onto his stomach as he heard the door open and started getting ready to grovel.

Allistor rushed over to the door, then opened it, hurriedly helping Francis up. "Oh my God...what did he do to ya..?"

He carried the Frenchman over to his bed, then grabbed the first aid supplies. "This isn't goin ta be enough.. We have to get you to a hospital!" Allistor said as he snatched up his phone to dial 112 (the emergency number in Europe).

Francis shook his head and panicked. Whacking the phone out of his hand before he froze and curled up in a submissive ball. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry I….I didn'tmeantoo...I'msorryMasterAllistor...pleasedon't...d-don't take me down...t-" He cut himself off as he started shaking immensely. "No...no hospitals...I...I'll be killed...according to the city...no..country...I don't exist. I-I've been holed up here for eight years...a-and they presumed me dead….six years ago...no one will care if Arthur kills me...which he threatened to do if I ever called any sort of help..." He sobbed and it was obvious the poor guy was terrified.

"...Ok, but..." Allistor sighed then said, "I need to take off you shirt, just to see how bad the damage is.." Allistor started to unbutton Francis's shirt, then slipped it off. Trying not to cause him pain. He reached over and poked one of the cracked ribs, then shifted it a little to make sure it would heal right. He that with all of them trying not to cause him pain.

Francis bit back painful cries but he couldn't help the occsional quiet whimper after which he would apologize for. "When you're done wrapping my back...do you think...th-that...you c-could...please clean the salt out of my eye socket? Please?"

Allistor's face paled a bit before he nodded and went off to go find a cup. Once he had filled it with water and walked back in. "Hold still, this will definitely bur..." He poured water in, getting most of the salt out, but then he sighed. "Ya okay? Because if you want it all out I'm gonna have to do this again..."

Francis bit back the slight scream of pain. Clenching his the sheets a little he nodded once he caught his breath. "Oui. It'll b-be worse if it gets...i-infected..."

"Ok but if you want me to stop, just say so." Allistor said as he poured the water in again, this time getting the rest of the salt out.

Francis whimpered quietly and clutched the sheets as the rest of the salt was cleaned out.

Allistor finished, then looked at Francis. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping to comfort him. "I promise, one day this will all end. Arhtur won't be able to hurt you then..."

Francis looked up at him and at first flinched when he saw the hand coming towards him. Not used to kind or comforting touches...but he relaxed only slightly when he felt the hand through his hair. "I...I deserve it...I...I spilt tea all over the paperwork...h-he he'd been working hard on it on…." A couple tears beaded in the corner of his eyes. "I didn't mean to...I...m-my hands wouldn't stop shaking..." He murmured. Wiping his tears quickly. "I...I h-have to get started on dinner..." He said as he started to get up.

Allistor stopped Francis. "I think it would be better if I did that..anyways, Arthur shouldn't be beating you over that." He smiled before standing up, then walking to the door. Allistor went out and shut it behind him, then headed downstairs.

Francis once more started to protest but he wound up stumbling after and getting met with a closed door. He would be lying if he said he didn't like the the thought of just spending the rest of the day in Allistor's bed...but that wasn't his place and it was rude. So he got up again a couple minutes later. He knew he should be getting the rest of the chores done…but the would just have to wait until tomorrow. He sagged onto the small cot and curled up. Trying his best to get comfortable on the might-as-well-be-wood mattress.

Allistor went into the kitchen, then looked around. Opening a cupboard he pulled out three glasses. He went around, preparing a less fancy meal than one that Francis would normally make. Once he had gotten the food done he put it on plates and took it out to the table. He went back to the kitchen to grab the drinks then set them out too . He looked at the clock then grabbed one of the plates and a drink and took them to Francis's room. Allistor set them outside the door and knocked, leaving quickly after.

Francis looked over at the door when he heard the knock and blinked slightly in conflusion. No one ever knocked on his door...well...no one meaning Arthur...but still. He slowly got up after a couple of minutes and went over. Peeking out and he saw the food. Eyeing it a bit warily, he thought at first that it might be a trap. So first he slowly pulled it a bit closer and then moved a back a little. When nothing happened he slowly pulled it into the room and settled down on the bed to eat.

Allistor sat down and started to eat his meal, keeping an on the clock. When it let out a ding, to tell him that an hour had passed, Arthur came down the hall and into the dining room.

"Where the bloody hell is Francis!?" He shouted.

"Oh I'm filling in for him, he has a few cracked ribs." Allistor answered. Trying to annoy him.

Francis smiled a little as he ate and for once his saw his hands stop shaking. Once they did he thought about something and quickly made his way to one of the guest rooms and quickly got to work. He came down about an hour and a half later and silently made his way to the doorway. He started to have second thoughts, but he might as well just go through it.

He went over to the sink and set his dishes down and then came over to the table. "Master Arthur..." He murmured. In his hands was a stack of papers. Each covered with a flawless calligraphic script. "I d-don't know the first th-th-thing about the business world...b-b-b-but I...r-remember most of what on those papers. Th-that were ruined of course. I...th-this is all...the spelling is correct...I made sure...u-um...I...a-all..you have to do is look them over. And whatever e-else...I...I even made sure th...they were already signed...I practiced your signature several times before I-" He gave a quiet startled yelp though when there knocked out of his hands angrily.

Francis felt a couple of tears threatening to well up as he quickly dropped to his knees and started picking them up. Trying to move quickly to put them back in order. He froze and whimpered though as he saw Arthur standing over him. "I-I'm sorry Master! Wh-whatever it is I'm sorry..." He whimpered out as he started to slowly move back. Giving the wall that he felt press against his back a fearful look as his breath started to quicken which was causing his chest to ache.

Arthur stood there, watching Francis struggle to pick up the papers, then as he moved back, scared of him. As he rightly should be. Arthur took a step forwards, then made sure that Francis was pinned against the wall. "You better be sorry you git! Stand up!" Arthur gave Francis a few seconds before pulling him into a standing position.

Francis whimpered and yelped quietly as he hauled him to his feet. Shaking a like a leaf as he shrunk back...or at least tried to, but the wall stopped him. "Please M-master Arthur...I...I only wished...t-t-to….fix...wh-what...happened…." He whimpered and his shaking weakened legs gave out on him. He just gave a final whimper in shame and his eye dimmed as he looked down. "Please...j-just get it over with…." He mumbled. Arthur raised a hand to hit him, then swung down, but stopped right before he hit Francis's face. Instead he lifted Francis's so he would be looking at him. Arhtur could feel wave after wave of anger hit him, but with something else sublimity hidden there. He felt his body act on impulse as he leaned in and kissed Francis.

Francis waited quietly as he sat on his knees, head bowed in front of his Master. Finally having been broken and beaten into submission. He heard the rush of wind as Arthur's hand came close to his face. He tensed up the faintest bit, but other than that he didn't move a muscle. He blinked in surprise and confusion though when he instead felt his head lifted. When He felt lips to his for a moment he couldn't move. Eye wide with fear and confusion before he finally pushed Arthur back and protectively curled in on himself as he glared over at him weakly. "What the hell was that?!"

(sorry guys I'm tired so cliffhanger!)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the cliffhanger. XD It was like four in the morning and I needed some sleep. As for why I haven't uploaded a new chapter in a while, things got hectic and somehow I managed to come with scabies. Don't know how, but I didn't want this new chapter to sound rushed because all I could think about was itching. But here I am now with the new chapter at last! ^u^ Also because of how much of a fan I am of Alice in Wonderland, I have another rp that I will probably start turning into a fanfic here in a couple of days. Just a little shameful self plug if any of you are interested. Anyway, without much more to say please be gentle with flames, thanks for reading and enjoy. (^u^)/

Francis waited quietly as he sat on his knees, head bowed in front of his Master. Finally having been broken and beaten into submission. He heard the rush of wind as Arthur's hand came close to his face. He tensed up the faintest bit, but other than that he didn't move a muscle. He blinked in surprise and confusion though when he instead felt his head lifted. When He felt lips to his for a moment he couldn't move. Eye wide with fear and confusion before he finally pushed Arthur back and protectively curled in on himself as he glared over at him weakly. "What the hell was that?!"

 **Chapter Five: Have You Lost Your Mind?**

Arthur felt himself being shoved back, for a few seconds he stood there, slightly confused. When his mind finally caught up to what was happening he glared at Francis, his whole face a bright red. He clenched his fists tightly. "I think...I-I like you.." He glanced away, already having a large amount of anger built up from the first rejection. He knew if he got rejected a second time he would literally blow a gasket. "G-go ahead! Laugh at me! I you want to!" Arthur shouted.

Francis realized what he had done shortly after and moved away from the wall and stared at him fearfully. Whimpering and curling protectively as his shouts at his shouts as he shook his head. "Y-you...you d-don't like me...s-someone who likes someone e-else doesn't...d-doesn't beat them a-and torture th-them...no one...c-could ever l-love me...y-you..you lost your chance s-several years ago..." He said quietly.

"I-I...NO...just...AGH!" He shouted as he slammed his hand down on the coffee table, sending a crack down the middle o it. "God damnit! Why does have to be so hard?!"

He kicked a chair over before looking back at Francis before picking him by the collar of his shirt. A death glare had settled over his features, and rage had taken control now, just as red had claimed his vision as it's own.

"I can make you regret ever being born you asshole."

Francis whimpered a bit more as he saw the glare and hugged himself tighter. Trying to back away as he saw him coming towards him. It was in vain as he was hoisted up by the collar. At his statement though his eye dimmed as he stared back at him with an unimpressed lifeless gaze. "You already have. I've regretted my existence for the last six years." He muttered. "You've taken everything from me. My home. My family who also doubled as my friends. My freedom. My Pride. My happiness. My self-esteem. My confidence. My smile. My once decent good looks. Hell, you've already taken my life according to the government. You don't love me. You just use me as a punching bag so you can get off on my begging and screaming, you are a cold hearted Bastard who is incapable of showing or feeling anything close to love."

Arthur's rage grew and grew and grew with every word that was spoken...but this time, it was almost like it was towards himself. For having broken and stripped the man of everything. He was trembling with ire...because he knew deep down that it was the truth he spoke.

He growled in frustration, then threw Francis into the wall and left, slamming the door behind him. His footsteps could be heard pounding up the stairs and to his room. A few things shattering were heard after, and then all went silence.

Francis yelped loudly in pain and sat there for a couple a minutes before he hauled himself up and started to slowly up all the papers that had spilt. Trying to stop the tears that were starting to fall as he set the stack of papers on the counter and then got to work on fixing the table. Once that was done he gathered up the broken dishes and cleaned up the spilt food. Mopping, drying waxing and polishing the area afterwards. He picked up the chair that had been knocked over. Taking care of the dishes.

He was just about done when putting away the knives when the glint of one caught his eye. For a couple minutes he just started down at the clean butcher knife. Looking at his reflection...bruised..beaten...scarred. The more he looked the more he felt a bitter hate bubbling up as the man that done this to him crossed his mind. The man that had forced him into submission and bent him into the scarred stuttering pathetic mess. Just one well placed stab to the heart would be all it would take to watch him bleed out. And then he would be free. No one knew him. No one had ever seen him. He could kill him and then assume the position of the business leader. It would take a little altering of his will.

He shook his head though soon after and the rage died down. Even now...when all he knew was pain and cruelty...he was not a mean person. That had never been the way he had grown up...he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. The guilt would be too much to sleep comfortably with. Even if the coward deserved it.

Then another thought came to mind. He turned and leaned back and sank down to a sitting position and stared and stared at the knife just a bit longer before he shakily pressed it to his wrist and got ready to cut.

Allistor got up and opened his door, slightly angered at Arthur, but more concerned for Francis right now. He had heard a few bangs right now. He had heard a few bangs and smashing noises, from two different parts of the house. Starting down the stairs he went to the kitchen. He braced himself though, not wanting to throw up if there was anything gruesome inside. After a few seconds he peeked around the corner then stepped inside fully.

Francis looked up a bit from where he sat slumped against the counter. Butcher knife tossed to the side clean of blood. His wrists unharmed having having not been able to work up the courage do so. He hugged his knees to his chest after a moment not saying much. The papers that he had stacked up again had fallen from being too close to the edge but he had made no move to pick them up.

Allistor looked around, his eyes locking on Francis. "What happened? I heard noise and I assumed...that...well…you know..." He said. Concern seem to fill his voice.

He walked over and sat down next to him Francis then said "I think I might be able to get you out...but it would require sometime.."

Francis curled up and hid his face with a whimper at first when heard Allistor come in. Thinking it was Arthur. Although he looked up a bit when he saw Allistor and relaxed. "I spent three hours... " He gestured to the papers that littered the kitchen floor. "Copying every last paper I had spilt tea on, his signature and everything, so that he wouldn't have to redo it all. And then when I went down to give them to him he knocked them out of my hand and started yelling at me." He said as he finally just broke down crying, burying his head in his knees while he was at it.

"I don't why I even bother. Nothing satisfies him. Spills tea on paperwork...I get yelled at. Try and make up for it I get yelled at and then...he kissed me and tried to tell me that he likes me...the bastard doesn't like me. No one can...I'm pathetic...and hideous. He just wants me around so he can have a punching bag when he's frustrated.." He sobbed quietly. His voice cracking. "Why would do you...w-want to help me? He'll just find m-me again. I'll...I'll never get out of here. I'm trapped..I'm going to die here and no ones goign to care and I'll just be dumped in some ditch and no one will ever sentence him and he'll just find someone else to replace me..."

"He did what?!" Allistor asked in surprise, but then he felt the heavy atmosphere in the room hit him again.

"I'm not going to let you die here. And if my plan works he won't find you..ever. Anyways...you're not worthless. No one is worthless! You were put on this earth for a reason is not to serve Arthur!" He paused for a few seconds before he continued. "You are an amazing individual! Hundreds of people would have given up long before you if they were here. But you managed to hold out, and you're close to freedom! Giving up now would mean defeat, and that means dying here..but if you just hang on a little longer you may finally live as yourself and not someone's property! YOu just have to hang on.."

Francis looked up at him a little as he talked and after a moment he sniffled and wiped his tears with a nod. "Alright...I...I'll hang on a bit longer...how...how long do you think it'll take?" He asked.

For the first time in his life he felt a bit of hope. And it showed in his eyes as a bit of light flickered back to life like a weak spark that had been struck.

"A few days...five at most.." Allistor said, trying to not dose the spark. He gave Francis a comforting smile, then said, "I'm going to go have a...talk with Arthur. I promise that I'll be back soon."

He stood up then left, hoping the Frenchman would be okay alone. He started up to Arthur's room, another bloody fight breaking out again.

Francis nodded a little and smiled...genuinely for the first time in as long as he could remember. It was only a little. But it was a start. Although as Allistor got up and announced that he was going to talk to Arthur he shook his head a little and reached out.. Almost afraid that he was going to leave. But he stopped himself and let him go although he whimpered a little as he heard the fight break out and scurried to the back porch with a books where he curled up on the steps and started to try and block it out with the world on the pages.

The two brother's shouts grew to the point of screaming, far past the point of attacking each. Hatred was filling their words, deepening the crack in between them, already having drifted so far apart. If it weren't for that one last happy chord, left in the symphony of sadness masked by a loud raging percussion, they would have killed each other.

Arthur threw Allistor out the door, a loud crack coming from his arm when he hit the concrete. No tears came, he didn't want to pleasure the sadist that his brother had become. He shakily picked himself up and started down the path, walking away for what may be his last time. The two tunes had drifted apart, the harmony just strung by one small chord, one of hope that was dragged by both, one trying to take it down, the other fighting to keep it within the light.

Francis startled a bit as he heard the door slam shut and he hesitantly got up and went inside. Just barely peeking around the doorframe. "Is...is everything okay...M-master Arthur?" He asked in barely a whisper, but when he saw that Allistor had left he felt his heart and hope shatter and he couldn't help himself as he sagged to his knees and looked on at the door before tears started to gather and he bowed his head to wipe them away.

Arthur glared, his temper already fearing at the top of it's abilities. Grabbing the collar of Francis's shirt, he roughly yanked the man to his feet. "What makes you think that everything is okay!?" He threw Francis aside then started down the hall, heading towards the study. He shoved a chair down, as he rounded the corner, taking some of his rage out on it.

Francis hauled himself to his feet a while after Arthur had disappeared down the hall and numbly made his way to his room. Sagging onto the bedas he stared out the single small barred window at the starless moonless sky with his one good eye. Come morning he didn't bother getting up and getting started on breakfast. He knew Arthur would be pissed, but he would get pissed anyway. No matter what he did, or said for that matter, it was never good enough. So he would just give up. If he was going to get beaten it might as well be for an actual reason.

Arthur had gone to his bed, lying down on it and just thinking. He eventually fell asleep, just as the first rings of gold from the sun hit the graying sky. He pulled the blankets over his head, blocking out the sun. His thoughts had led him back to when he had first gotten Francis, when he he just looked down on the man and didn't say much to him. After a few days he had taken a bit of an…'interest' in the man, still not real sure of what the emotions going around in his head had meant.

On a particularly stressful day, Francis had accidentally dropped his teacup, causing him to lash out and slap the man. He apologized almost immediately after, but the feeling of that little bit of stress releasing stuck with him. Eventually one thing led to another and they ended up like this. Arthur felt something that he hadn't in a long time, remorse. It hurt him, and he wanted to get rid of it, just wanted to be merciless with no regrets. He curled into a ball, shuddering and trying to get rid of the wild emotion wreaking havoc inside of him.

Francis laid in bed for how long he didn't know, but eventually he had gotten up. Sighed and slowly slipped out from underneath the covers. Getting dressed in the tattered patchwork rags that was supposed to his uniform and tied back his hair with the ribbon. Padding down the hall to the kitchen he made a nice breakfast spread and set the tray. Carrying it up he hesitated before he silently entered Arthur's room and set it down. "I won't be available for a couple hours. The porch needs to be swept, sanded and polished. But I'll be taking a break around noon to make you lunch and collect you dishes." He said quietly.

Turning and hurrying out of the room he limped his way down to the porch and sighed a bit as he got out of the broom. Though he paused a moment as he watched a couple humming birds and with a frown he realized their feeder was empty. He climbed up and got it down and took it inside. Filling it with sugar water and putting a couple drops of red food dye in it before he carried it back out and hung it again. Smiling the slightest bit for a second d as they flitted over and started to sweep as he said he would.

(I know this kind of sounds like the wrap up of a story, but it's not I promise. I just really want to take a shower.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: A Surprising Success**

A/N: Thank you all who are reading my fanfics, as someone who wants to be an author, but unconfident in the fact that anyone would read my stuff...it really makes me happy. Thank you so much. Please enjoy the installment.

Arthur sighed as he looked at the empty dishes and in turn to the clock on the wall above his desk. Why was he actually regretting the things he had done to Francis? And furthermore almost looking forward to when his housekeeper would come and collect the empty the dishes that sat on the night stand. Really, was he going soft? No. He was not a soft person. People who are soft always get walked all over and trampled on, and he was certainly was not going soft on a slave.

"Of all bloody things to get worked up about..." He muttered as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up with the thought that some paperwork would help take his mind off things.

Half hour later there was a knock at his door and Francis stepped in with a pot of tea fixed how he knew Arthur liked it and some simple pastries that he hoped might be an okay alternative for the scones. There was too much get done...he hadn't had the time.

He came over to the desk and carefully set the new tray down. "My apologies for the simple pastries. I...I hope they will suffice, I have a lot to do today and being as stupid as I am I was not watching the clock." He gave a bow and stood there for a moment. Expecting a time for a beat or a lecture about how moronically ignorant it was of him to lose track of time when there were clocks hanging in most every room. Unless he was in the there that didn't...etc...etc..etc…

Arthur tried to ignore that damn voice, but he couldn't and at first if he hadn't shut up he was going to snap at him, tell him to do so, but he didn't have to. "Get out of my sight then. I swear I'm starting to wonder why I ever shelled out so much for you back then in that damned auction. Day after day you prove to be more and more worthless." He said, his head not once looking up from the documents he was signing. Not noticing the way Francis's shoulders sagged as he turned and gathered up the dirty dishes.

"Is there anything in particular that you would like for dinner master Kirkland?" He asked in a quiet murmur.

This time he did pause in his signings and seemed to give it some thought before a sharp smile pulled up his cheeks, though Francis could not see it since the Brits back was still turned to Francis.

Francis had never been taught how to cook before he was caught and auctioned off. He had taught himself how once quickly when he had moved into the hell hole. He had thought that lately now that he had the hang of it, his cooking was pretty decent. If Arthur didn't think he was good enough then maybe he should just give up. Allistor had just up and ditched him after giving false hopes and promises now broken, left to be a slave to Arthur which in his eyes was worse than what Arthur did. At least with how ruthless he was Arthur was pretty much honest and fulfilled his promises

 _Crack!_

He let out a sharp cry as he felt the back of a hand connect with his cheek. Causing him to stumble and lose his balance his falling awkwardly on his side. A groan escaped his lips as he hit the floor. "Do I have your attention now?"

Francis gave a nod as he shakily rose to his feet. "Sorry Master Kirkland." He murmured. "What is your request?"

"Beef wellington with a nice salad for the side."

Francis paled at the order and shook his head slightly. "Y-you kn-know I...I can't...please. Maybe a nice beef stew? O-or-"

"Would a deal and some templation convince you?"

Francis bit his lips a bit and as much as he didn't want to make a deal with the Devil he nodded. "I suppose…"

"If you can make it correctly this time then then you can have three months to yourself as a resident. Not a slave. You can even use one of the guest rooms. Maybe we could even take a trip to France if you feel up to it."

Of course he had thought that Francis would be failing as usual. He had never been able to make it in the past.

What he didn't know was that one, Francis wanted nothing more badly than to visit the streets he had run with bags full of food and necessities, hid from the cops and laughing from the thrill of the adrenaline with Acelain at his side.

He could still smell the lingering scent of the laundry soaps of the clothes people were hanging out to dry in the sun. The occasional dumpster that the trash man had forgotten to empty along their way. Two he was tired of being labeled as a failure among other things. After all these years he had been stuck here and now the key to temporary salvation had to be a simple meal? He wasn't going to fuck it up again. Not this time. Although, before he left the room he was hesitant. He thought maybe-

"Don't get yourself tied in a knot. I keep my words no matter who they are too."

"Promise?"

"Swear to my heart."

"What heart?"

"Watch it. Or I will call off the deal."

"You will probably find something to complain about, just to cheat me out of it. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if you used that it was to delicious as an excuse." He said as he rebalanced the tray and disappeared down the hall to the kitchen again.

Arthur had whirled around in his office chair ready to retort back to the one eyed Frenchman, a pang of guilt hitting him in the gut at the thought of the eye patch and all over again he felt that same remorse start to eat at his thoughts, guilt meanwhile seemed to make itself very comfy on a heavy bed atop his conscious.

He sighed and drank his tea and ate his pastries until the feelings could not be hidden in paperwork any longer so he took the emotions out to the roses in the garden. They seemed to be a bit better taken care of than most of the others. Except the one he stopped at when he noticed a small box of a sort underneath the leaves at the root. He was just going to keep on walking since it was something private of the Frenchman's, not that he really respected it in the first place, but he wasn't feeling like himself. However, he felt mild curiosity fill him as he bent down and brushed some of the dirt off and pulled it up. Wooden. Handmade, he thought as he ran his hands along the top of the lid. Had Francis always been good at carpentry? Thinking on the table that had been fixed. That table had been around longer than Francis had been working for at his house. So it held some sentimental value, as much as he didn't want to admit as such.

Either way he shook off the thoughts and returned to the box in hand and wiggled open the lid. To his surprise he found a small, but brilliantly shining sapphire. He slowly picked up the gem and set it aside and picked up a folded piece of paper which seemed to be the oldest by the fragility and the slightly yellowed and the slightly yellowed corners and edges.

 _Dear Jeanne,_

 _This will never reach you...I know it won't because he, Arthur, won't let me contact anyone. If I am allowed then he thinks that I'll try and spread the word about this. So I'm going to save myself the disappointment and hope that maybe someday there's a chance I'll be free. I'm sorry that I did not come back. I was stupid, to not skip making the rounds or to just have dragged Acelain along with me. We worked as a team, always, and we never got caught, by anyone, but wouldn't you know it the first time we didn't and I get myself sold off by the fucking black market...unbelievable huh? Well, no I guess not because now it has happened to me. I'm sorry I won't be able to see you again for probably a long while. You are a smart girl Jeanne, I know you will be a leader of some sort one day. Brave as well._

 _Francis_

Arthur's brows furrowed a bit as he re skimmed the words on the page. Who was Joan? He had never heard her name before, not that he ever made small talk with Francis in the first place, but if it was someone who he loved then how come he had never heard the name pass the other's lips? He sighed and turned his eyes skyward. Dusk. Probably close to eight if not passed already. Dinner should done by now. So as much as he wanted to continue to the next letter he put the one he read back in the box carefully and slid the lid back on, but he didn't re-bury it, just set it back under the bush. Pushing himself up to head to the dining room to see the table set while Francis put some last minute garnishes on his dish, although paused to come and pull out the chair for him, pushing the chair back in gently once he was comfortably seated. Bringing over a rather tasty looking salad and beef wellington.

"I didn't know what you would want to drink, but I thought a complimentary wine would be nice. Is that to your liking? Or would you you like someone you like something else?"

"You know this looks delicious, and yes that would be fine. You should fix yourself a plate..."

"Can't Master Arthur," Francis said as he he poured a glass of wine for Arthur. "I only make enough for you to eat. You know that, they're your rules." He murmured, re corking the bottle and disappearing to the wine cellar for a moment. Afterwards he reappeared and nervously took up a place next to the table to hear what the result of their little bargain would be.

Normally Arthur would take his time, just to watch Francis's nervous fidgets from the corner of his eyes, that wasn't this time though. He told himself it was the fact that the meal looked way to appetizing even if deep down he knew that couldn't be farther from the truth.

He took fork in hand and cut a bite off the slab of meat, starting by examining the color of it on the inside. For once it had been cooked properly, the way he liked his meat, medium rare. "So far so good, the color is right. The plate isn't swimming with blood this time."

He sighed, "Here goes nothing." He brought the ort to his mouth and took the bite, hoping beyond all hopes that it did not as good as it looked. Though he mainly had initially bought him more because he wanted a little company company around the house, but he did also need help with cooking, especially. Cleaning was just something he had never had much time on his hands for, with how many business meetings and batches of paperwork flooded his desks. Both of them. The one in his room as well as the one in his office.

Francis though smirked on the inside when he saw the way Arthur's eyes let up as he chewed on on it to get a taste, the way it was outside while the tenderness of the inside would practically melt in one's mouth, but he still wasn't out of the woods yet. Now the moment of the truth. Would their deal be upheld? He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his name spoken, tone neutral though so he couldn't read it.

"Yes Master?"

"Oh for fuck's sake would you stop calling me master? Anyway, choose whatever room you like to use for the next three months."

Francis's eyes widened and at first he blinked. For a moment, he also couldn't move, afterwards shaking his head slightly. "A-are you you sure? M-merci! I-I mean thank you! M-may I be excused for the evening a-and will I be allowed to leave the house?"

"Temporary freedom means temporary freedom. If you try to run though, I do have quite a few favors I can call in from friends in _very_ low places. It will not be a very pleasant evening. Understa-what?"

Francis chuckled lightly as he quickly removed himself from the hug he had given the Brit; Whose cheeks were now flushed and heart was racing (not with anger though) and smiled genuinely for the first time in so long. "Sorry I...you're the the only person I've really been around the most consistently s-so...yeah...anyway s-sleep well!"

Arthur gave a huff and waved his hand as Francis left him alone for the evening to sigh and figure out what in the hell he was going to do about cooking in the morning. Since he was going to be cooking for himself for the first time in a long time. About fifteen years had past the kitchen had been so ravaged by flames that renting a hotel room to leave for a couple days had been necessary, while construction was being done to fix the damage he had caused. His scones had been in the oven cooking so he could make some tea and had then proceeded to fall asleep from pulling two all nighters the previous evenings. Smart. He knew. Lately he had been getting much better sleep and he knew how to read. Surely he could follow a recipe right?  
"Who am I kidding? This is going to be a huge disaster..."

Francis was still smiling as he moved his stuff to his favorite room of the house. Arthur hardly still remembered it so with in due time he was going to move to that room anyway. This was just making things easier for him.

The room he spoke of could only be reached through a small and old wooden door in the shadowed corners of the library. An old stone spiral staircase lead up to lead up to what had at one point in time been an old planetarium with a completely glass domed ceiling that gave a three hundred and sixty view of the landscapes that surrounded them and the star riddled sky above. He stayed up for hours charting the stars as his first night of freedom. Maybe tomorrow he could get some money from Arthur to get himself some stuff from the shops in the city he was so excited he could hardly sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: A Possible Reunion?**

Francis, despite the thought that he might never be able to sleep in again and that his body wake him up that morning instinctively to the smell of smoke and immediately he sprung up and raced downstairs in time to see Arthur getting ready to pour in the stove to put it out.

"Non!" He shouted as he grabbed the cup and threw it in the sink. "What the bloody hell are you doing?! Have you gone bollocks?!" Arthur asked more out of perplextion than anger as the Frenchman hurried to a closet and disappeared and retrieved the fire extinguisher Arthur had made a while ago when he had started and told Arthur to stand back as he sprayed over the flames to put them out. Only once they had been fully extinguished did he break out in a coughing fit as he opened the sliding door and the window above the sink.  
"Explain your-"

"What is wrong with you?!"

"Excuse me?! I'm not the one who came in and decided to-"

"That" Francis pointed to the stove. "Is an electric stove. Do you know what happens to something electric when water is poured in it?"

Arthur nodded as a pink streak was drawn across his cheeks. "I'm not daft..."

Francis sighed as he got a bucket and poured a bit of soap in it along with capful of bleach and set it under the facet in the sink with warm water pouring into it.

"Is my oven ruined?"

"Non. It's going to be a pain in the ass to clean."

"Oh. Maybe I should go out for breakfast then. Would you…" He hesitated a moment before he took a deep breath. "Would you like to join? I'll help you clean that when we get back. Of course we will have to stop and get you a couple new outfits. Those dreadful rags won't due."

All the while Arthur talked Francis just looked over to him with surprise written all over his face just barely managing to remind himself to turn off the water before it flooded the over.

"In fact I think we could both use a getaway for a couple days. Let's go to France for a week. What do you say?"

Again Francis was speechless at the declaration that the both of them could use a getaway and finally he nodded at the offer and looked up to him as he pulled the bucket out from under the faucet and set a couple rags in it. I...I would love to accompany you. I mean who else is going to make sure you get your eight hours and three meals?" Just let me clean this stuff up before we go. Otherwise your stove will have to be replaced."

Arthur nodded in agreement at the gesture to finish which he appreciated very much the cause he knew that if he were in the Frenchman's place he would care less about cleaning something after being offered the chance to return to his home city.

"I'll be out in the gardens. Get dressed when you are done and come fetch me. Don't worry about packing. Not to sound rude or offensive, but I do not believe you have much of value."

Francis shook his head at the statement. "Well considering I've not left this house in the last eight years no I don't have much. Don't worry I'll pack light." He called after him as the brit exited the glass exited the glass door. Probably to wander the gardens since it was actually sunny for once. A rarity in London which had been a huge culture shock when he had arrived was how much it rained and even stormed. Not that he was afraid or anything. Well, okay maybe a little, but he dealt with it. Used to putting on a brave face for Jeanne and a friend of hers.

The more he thought about his old home the more excited he got. Reminiscing and before he knew it the stove was clean and he had rinsed out his last rag. A bit surprise that it had went so quickly. Normally chores seemed to last literal ages, but this only took him twenty minutes. Did time really fly that much quicker when one was excited about something? He didn't question it though as he ran up the stairs and clothes landed in various places as he hurriedly undressed to hop into the shower. There he took his time. For once not having to be pressured by time to do this or get that finished so he could cook this meal.

Afterwards he dug through the clothes that he had, trying to find the most un-worn out of it that he had when he stumbled upon something that him blush to no bounds with the memory of it. Once in a while, back when he had first started working for the devil in disguise the man liked to hold parties, business parties and though the other didn't want people knowing who he was he couldn't stand not showing up without a woman on his arm so he had made him play dress up and call him Francine. All those fake kisses and compliments always made him so furious. Like a puppet dancing strings wishing those would be snapped and now for the moment they had been. His goal now? Decide if he wanted to challenge Arthur's threat and run or...if he wanted to make those kisses and compliments mean something. He supposed he would decide once they were in France. So he could have a head start if he ran. Since for once he would have home court advantage on the mainlands. He finally found something semi-presentable to wear and headed down the stairs. He was just pulling on a patch worked jacket when Arthur came back in and looked him over with a sigh.

"Is that the best you could find?"

Francis looked down a bit at the tone of his voice and shied away from him. "Je suis I..."

"No...don't apologize I should. For letting your wardrobe come to such a state."

Francis blinked a little at the apology. That was definitely a first in the record books. "U-um...I...it's okay…?" He said as he was lacking for an idea of he was supposed to say.

Arthur smiled a bit. "Of course it is. Cause we're going to feed it today. Come on."

Francis blinked a little. "Actually, I'll meet you out at the car. There's one thing that I would like to go and get. I-If you don't mind..." Arthur shook his head. Francis nodded as well and hurried off to the gardens where he got under the bush of yellow hyacinths and looked to the bottom of the roots. Pulling out a box he wiggled the lid off and harvested a small bouquet of Flowers. Gathering up first some black irises, four peach colored roses which were a symbol of symbol of sympathy and apology. A soothing pastel color. Finally a couple yellow hyacinths to add a little humor to the batch. He quickly put them in the box and hurried off when he heard the horn honk twice. Climbing into the car he stretched out in the back seat with a yawn. Wanting to get a little more sleep before he greeted his home town.

*Time skip is brought to you

Specially in part by

Brows for the Browless*

*Insert dramatic typical narrator and the sad drippy violin music here* "Every day three unfortunate souls around the world are born with the rare condition called no eyebrowitis. It is a condition that renders the ability to grow eyebrows impossible, but for just ninety nine pennies a day you can aid the search for a cure!"

He didn't know how long he slept through the day, but he figured it was long enough because when he woke up with a stretch to someone jostling his shoulder he felt refreshed and well rested.

"What time is it?"

"Well normally it would be tea time but it is only late morning here. We've taken the faerie ride already. I thought we could get a new wardrobe before we got our hotel room." Francis nodded as he stretched again. Stiff from sleeping in the car for so long. "Y-you didn't have to bring me t-to a tailor...w-won't it be expensive? I-I mean second hand stores would be just as fine..."

"Nonsense!" He led the way although stopped when he didn't hear footsteps behind him and turned back to see Francis crying into his hands and blushing from ear to ear.

"What's wrong?"

Francis shrugged as he continued to cry, but Arthur wasn't that shallow.

"What is wrong?"

"Things are going so fast and are changing I don't know why you're being so nice to me and if I can even mingle and stand a crowd anymore...I mean look at me I'm hideous...and you're right about what you carved into my chest." He only started to cry harder. "I'm trash. You think someone is actually going to want to look at me while they take measurements? I can't even stand to look at myself anymore. I'm going to strip down to my briefs so that someone can laugh at me."

Arthur just stared at the other as he talked and all the while he just kept thinking about every word that came out of his mouth because he knew every single thing he said was true. Except about being trash and he was reminded of everything he did to this man.

"Please, let's just go to a thrift store. I know what fits me and what doesn't...I don't need fancy clothes like you..I don't deserve them..."

"Francis, love...please stop crying. Tears do not suit you..."

"How do you know? You loved watching me cry back then! Are you just being nice to so you can tear me down at the end of all of this?"

"What? No, no. That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"Look, I'll explain later, but I am not enjoying these tears in your eyes. Come inside, let's get some nice..."

Francis still shook his head no.

Arthur let out a sigh, but reminded himself that he should have seen this coming.

"Come on, please love? Look I promise nobody will say anything, because you know what?"

"What?"

"They'll have to answer to me and I'm their number one customer when I'm here on business. They won't risk losing me as a customer. And if you want, I'll also put in a order for any sort of costume that you want since I'll be holding a ball for christmas this year. And of course you'll be coming."

"Oui I know. I'm sooo looking forward to playing dress up..."

"No no. You won't be coming as Francine this year."

Francis just looked down again as he thought a moment. "Could we do this tomorrow?"

Arthur wanted nothing more than to just ring his and tell him to stop so scared and drag him along inside to get some nice clothes, but instead he nodded and held open the car door for him.

"Tomorrow then. Shall we go and eat? Or would you like to go and get a hotel room first? Order room service?"

"I wouldn't mind going out to eat as long as it's not crowded..."

Arthur nodded and shut the door for him once he climbed into the car as well. Turning the ignition which caused the engine to start with a purr.

"Well, any suggestions?"

Francis sighed a bit at the brit's forgetfulness.

"I grew up on the streets, remember?"

"You did?"

Francis gave a heavier sigh.

"You have exceptional manners and etiquette for someone who grew up as a street rat."

Francis sighed at he gave him an unimpressed look. "You flatter me...cut the shit."

"What shite."

"You know what I mean."

Arthur looked down with a sigh, this was going to take more than he expected.

"There was one little cafe that always looked good, but they don't serve tea. Few do."

"What was the name of it?"

"Quoi?" I asked in an uninterested tone.

"What is the name of the cafe?"

Francis sighed. "They don't have tea there."

"I heard you the first time."

"Then-"

"Is it illegal to want a cup of coffee every now and then?"

"Non...you just always say that you wouldn't ever dream of taking one sip of the dreadful brew."

"Yes...well...that's because stress and anger have been blinding me. You've been the target of that pent up stress for long enough. It stops today. Let's relax over a couple bagels and get to know each other. For real. Without our masks and guards up. I have much to tell you and much more to apologize for. So why don't we try again, yeah? Could you please tell me the name of the cafe?"

Francis blinked a couple more times before he turned his gaze back to the window. "It's the cafe theatre. Across town on forty fifth street. And here I thought you didn't like frogs."

"I only don't like the ones that croak. Some are princes underneath you know."

"If you're looking for a prince then you have the wrong frog."

"Nope."

"Oui."

"Nope."

"Oui!"

Arthur chuckled a bit. "Nope."

"Real mature."

"Age doesn't equal maturity."

"Obviously."

A/N: XD I have no idea where the satire parodied commercial break came from, but anyway I hope you all are enjoying.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you to APH Dadmark again for being my beta reader and to all who are reading and reviewing. Please enjoy the next installment. Also Arthur finally opens up his past in this chapter and it is dark and sad...not that this story hasn't already been the definition of that, but thought I just thought I would give fair warning.

 **Chapter 8: The Hate of Croaking Frogs**

Francis sighed as he sat on the cushioned seat of the booth across from Arthur, both of his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee whose steam was still curling off the top. A small basket of chocolate drizzled croissants were still cooling from the oven. They had both been sitting in silence now for about five minutes and the awkwardness was killing him so finally Francis managed to find his voice and gave a quiet cough as he barely sipped at the coffee. It burned his mouth as it was still not cool enough yet, but the pain came as a lovely resolve. "So...what were you trying to cook this morning?" He asked a bit curiously since the pieces of coal that he scraped off the bottom of the stove were unidentifiable.

Arthur pulled himself from his thoughts as he heard the cough and blinked before he sighed. "Uhhh...bacon and eggs….with waffles...but the cookie sheet I poured the waffle batter on was a tad flimsier than I expected and it spilt all over the bottom of the stove..."

Francis burst out laughing as he set his mug down so as not to spill scalding coffee, staining it all over the table. He really hadn't meant to...but it was amazing how someone could be so stupid. "You were trying to cook waffles in a cookie sheet?! We...we have a waffle maker you know! My God did you not see it or something?!"

"Shut up...I didn't know how to work it and the last time I tried to use it the batter burnt and it was a pain in the ass to clean. I wound up having to replace it...I thought it would be easier in the cookie sheet..."

Francis had buried his head in his arms at this point so that his sleeves would catch the tears of mirth that were falling down reddened cheeks and for the first time in his life he heard the Brit across from him do something he never thought he could do. He _laughed_. He actually let out sounds of laughter for once in his life.

"I suppose I am rather hopeless."

Francis laughed and nodded as well and shook his head. "Maybe I could attempt a cooking lesson or two when we get back. What do you say?"

Arthur gave a nod as Francis wiped the tears from his eyes. "I do believe I would like that. It would be nice to know that when you are out of town I'll be able to cook _something_ for myself. So, not that you have to answer, but what is in the box that you brought along?"

Francis sighed as he picked up his mug again. "Letters I've been writing to someone for the last eight years. None of them were actually sent, I was just mainly writing them with the hope of one day maybe giving them the letters…."

"Who is it?"

"An old friend and crush from the band of street rats that I grew up with before I was sold. The oldest of the group of fifteen were Acelain and I, him being sixteen and I fourteen. We were the ones who would make the runs into the towns and then back with our arms full of food and supplies that were needed to keep our existence afloat. Acelain had started to get paranoid about two weeks before I was caught and now I know why….of course I kept arguing about how we had to make one more run and that we didn't have enough supplies. So I made the run by myself….against my better judgement. I got the shit we needed and got back quick enough, giving the cops the slip as Acelain and I were pros at that...The one that the letters are to is the girl that I often comforted, along with her friend during thunderstorms. Her name was Jeanne Aillard Arc. I knew she was going to grow to be a strong woman. It's been about eight years now. I want to see if I could find her somewhere while I'm here. Catch up. I'm scared at the same time though. What if I've changed so much that she doesn't recognize me? Or what if she wants nothing to do with me, or what if she hates me? Or thinks that I'm ugly?"

He ran his hands through his hair before he retrieved his cup again with shaking hands.

Arthur reached out and gently took the left bruised hand scarred with whip lashes. "I could help you find her while we're here. I think I've heard the name Arc before from a couple of the businessmen I work with here."

Francis blinked a little before he smiled and gently (albeit hesitantly) held the fingers of the other's hand. "If it really isn't too much trouble...and you wouldn't mind...then I would love to see her. Maybe she could help me find some of the others as well. I want to apologize to them for not coming back when I gave my word that I would. At least I managed to give them the supplies first…" He said as a wave of nostalgia washed over him.

"If I could still run and climb like I used to, then I would a run through the back alleys, but I cannot."

"Why not?" Arthur asked a bit curiously though immediately after he knew the answer. "Nevermind, let's just skip that one."

Francis nodded as he sipped at his own glass and took another one of the croissants, biting into the still vaguely warm bread.

"So...you said that I have been the target of anger...and stress…? How so?"

Arthur sighed. As much as he didn't want to relive all those memories, he did promise an explanation. Of course as if on cue Francis, seeing the other's discomfort, sighed.

"You don't have to explain if you don't want to..."

"No no. I promised you, therefore the promise must be upheld."

"Are you sure you want to talk about it?"

"Well Doc said it would help so I might as well. Allistor isn't the only brother I had at one point in time, though he is the eldest….I'm actually the youngest. I wasn't suppose to be though. Mum was pregnant when we got in a car wreck here in Bordeaux. Both of them died in the car wreck, so Allistair had himself emancipated and took over custody of me and the twins. Six months later Seamus again, while we were passing through this very city, was kidnapped. We found him a week later stuffed in a sewage pipe due to the city having to do some maintenance..." He paused there for a moment and took the last sip of the black brew in his cup before he continued. "After that it, took three years for Dylon and Allistair to finally manage to get me to come back for a weekend vacation. We could have gone anywhere. Norway...Germany...Japan is a nice a place, but no. Go to Stlo they said. We'll have fun they said." He shook his head as tears started to come to his eyes. "That night when we went back to our hotel after a good round of drinks, someone broke into our hotel room. Drug dealers. They had the wrong room...the wrong people. But they didn't realize this until after they open fired in the room. Allistair was in the Critical Care Unit of the hospital along with myself….He took eight shots and me nine. Dylon...wasn't as lucky to live. Ever since then….I haven't stepped one foot in this country unless absolutely necessary. Nor has Allistair. It's been about ten years since then….but still, I'm slightly terrified to be here...like...I don't think I'm going to be able to relax even if I am on vacation. Then I never intended...to...to...treat you as I have. I mainly bought you because I needed immense help with the cooking...and the house was rather lonely, b-but that day that you broke the teacup….I had been under so much stress and the last four days...hadn't slept a wink...and to top it all off you were French. I suddenly despised you. Your language...your looks….your life...that accent...it had only been two years so I started to use every chance I got to make you pay...for someone else's crimes…"

Francis sighed a bit. There had only been one other time when he had seen Arthur this worked up. He had been up for days beforehand pacing and mumbling and sobbing about not wanting to go. Because he couldn't do it. Except that time when he had tried to comfort him, he got thrown out of the room. This time though he felt it would be different, so he slowly got up and moved over to the other's side and gently pulled him into a hug. "Ch-" He coughed a bit as he caught himself slipping back into using snippets of his language. "When was the last time you got decent sleep?"

Arthur shrugged.

"Let's stop by the thrift store and get me some new clothes and then we're going to go to a hotel and I'm going to help you relax. Understood?"

Arthur sighed as he leaned against the Frenchman for a moment before he nodded. "Yes...Let's."

Francis sighed as they left once the check was paid and they headed to the thrift store.

"Just come out love..please?"

"Non! Never in a million years!" Francis said from the other side of the fitting room door as he looked himself over in the mirror with a blush.

"Come on...don't be so sensitive. I could use a little cheering up."

"Not at the expense of my humiliation." How he had been talked into the Kermit footie pajamas, he had absolutely no idea...but he was not going to go out there and actually show it off...or at least he wasn't….until Arthur said something that made his heart stop.

"I uh...l-like you..."

Francis threw the stall open and immediately heard the click of a phone followed by laughter. Francis's eyes widened in shock before he started to swipe at the phone, demanding that the picture be deleted but to no avail. Eventually Francis huffed as he headed back into the stall, stripped the ridiculous suit, and lazily stuck the hanger in the hood before he grabbed the rest of the clothes he had gotten. He stepped out and set the things he wanted to keep in the basket and left the stupid pjs with the retail ladies working there.

"Hotel now...what kind of a room are you going to get?" He asked with mild curiosity.

"Probably a Presidential Suite since it comes with the highest amount of security."

"They do? Like cameras in the room and stuff?"

"No no. Just cameras outside on the balcony to make sure no one is sneaking in, along with four security guards posted at any time..."

"Maybe we could-"

"No. I've lost too many people. I'm not going to make the mistake of losing another."

Francis sighed a bit. He hated the feeling of being watched and looked over. Mostly because it was just unsettling, but it appeared that there wouldn't be any changing his mind so he just leaned back and let the time go by in a semi-comfortable silence.

Before he knew it, the two of them were checking in to the hotel.

The elevator ride was long, but Francis got the door for Arthur, giving the security guards a nod as they slipped inside. He immediately took off to the bathroom to change into a pair of his new clothes, although all the while he avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he said he could no longer stand the way he looked. Once he was dressed in a pair of sweats and a baggy sweatshirt, he headed over to the bed where he beckoned Arthur to come and lie down. "On your stomach. You need to get some sleep and relax. You never do well under stress, so maybe I can help." He said as he once more patted the bed.

It was Arthur's turn to be weary as he eyed the Frenchman who just sighed.

"You said without guards or masks up so come here. Also shirt off."

Arthur sighed, but reminded himself of what he had said earlier so he shrugged off the jacket and draped it over one of his suit cases. The tie soon joined and finally the button up shirt which he made quick work of and Francis couldn't help but stare at the man's pale upper torso. He had never really taken much time before to really examine Arthur, especially since he was always struggling to meet his eyes and kept giving fleeting glances. The house always kept him extremely busy and not with much time to really do so as well. But all at once, he seemed to remind himself of his place in this world that had been struck into him time and time again over the last eight years so he quickly averted his gaze back down to the black and silver embroidered comforter, toying with one of the throw pillows on the bed. Reminding himself that he shouldn't be looking upon someone so much higher than himself like that. Though Arthur did notice the behavior with a pang of guilt, he did nothing to correct it for a moment. Instead he just removed the throw pillows so he could settle down on his stomach with his arms on a pillow and his chin resting on his arms, letting his eyes close in relaxation.

Francis got up for a moment and dug through the luggage before he found what he was looking for and pulled out the bottle of sesame seed oil, clambering back over to the comfy cloud that was the bed. He situated himself on his knees by the man and gently poured some of the oil in his hands before he placed them to pale skin and gently started to work it in, as well as ease the knots of stress and worry out, smiling the tiniest bit when he heard a rather large groan of relief pass the Briton's lips. "Where did you grow magic hands?"

"How else do you think I ease my spasms at the end of the day?"

"Oh…."

Francis chuckled silently as he continued with firm, but gentle hands. Within mere moments he heard a snore come from Arthur. He finished up before he rubbed the excess oil into his own hands and capped the bottle, sliding off the bed and lithely moving the covers out from underneath him so that he could put the blankets over Arthur. He didn't want the man to get a chill from sleeping with nothing covering him.

He sighed and looked at him a moment more before he got to work unpacking everything. Clothes going in their respective places, next were the toiletries. Arthur was always very picky about how things were set up and he knew exactly how everything was meant to be down to the angle of the bottles of lotions, oils, hair products, and other utensils. It had been hard at first and he had seen it as pointless and stupid, but he had conformed to the ways and devoted the arrangements to memory. He finally got the last of the things unpacked and made some peach iced tea and took the glasses out to the daytime guards who all thanked him. Afterwards, he sighed and grabbed a spare blanket and a pillow. Looking around...he hadn't been told where he was supposed to sleep…so he dragged his bedding over to the balcony door and decided to hunker down there, though he did not sleep. He opted to stay up and watch the sky.

Francis got so caught up in his daydreaming that he didn't take note of the waking tea junkie.

Arthur though smiled a bit playfully as he grabbed one of the throw pillows and crept over to Francis, swinging the pillow at him. Francis though blinked in surprise before he almost immediately curled up. "I'msorrywhateveritisIdidI'msorry! I'm so sorry I won't do it again I'll get started on dinner right away and I-I'll rearrange everything I'm sorry I just thought it would-"

"No, Francis love….you didn't do anything….I was trying to start a pillow fight..."

Francis blinked slightly and lowered his arms which he had initially raised in defense. "Umm….a what?" He asked quietly to which Arthur almost immediately gawked.

"You don't know what a pillow fight is?"

Francis shook his head. "Non...I'll get started on dinner though."

"Francis...we're in Paris...hotel rooms don't have kitchens...and there are no dishes here...we're here to relax. If you are hungry then we can order room service, it's not a problem."

"Oh yeah..." He murmured in remembrance. "What's a pillow fight?"

"You uh..it's a party game...um...each person gets a pillow and you try and whack the other person with your pillow more than they whack you...why are you on the floor?"

"I didn't know where you wanted me to sleep so I figured I'd sit here and watch the sky..." He murmured with a hefty sigh. "What am I supposed to do then? I'm useless here...I can't do any of my chores here. I don't have any responsibilities."

"That's what a vacation is. And what do you mean where to sleep? That bed is big enough for a family of ten...fifteen if they had to pack together."

"I don't think I'm starting to like this vacation that much...there's nothing to do."

"Well you unpacked my luggage for me...that's a start. Say how about we ring room service and then we can get a movie to watch. How does that sound?"

"Room service?"

"The hotel cooks the food and then it's delivered right to your room."  
"Does it cost money?"

"I have more than I know what to do with."

"I'll go down to the kitchen and cook for you. You're very particular-"

"Francis."

"Oui?" He murmured with a slight flinch at the somewhat authoritical tone.

"It's okay. I don't want you to be worrying about that. If there's anyone in the last eight years I need to be worrying about, it's you. You've put up with so much of my bullshit and temper...and have worked so hard day in and day out to keep my home clean and take care of me...I feel like the biggest scumbag on the face of the earth for not recognizing sooner just how much you do for me."

"I'm a bad house keeper though.."

"No, trust me, you're one of the best."

Francis just curled up, not really wanting to do anything except wallow, but Arthur had other plans. So finally he scooped up the mopey frog, much to the Frenchman's dismay, and carried him over to the bed. Plopping him down so he could at least insist on wallowing somewhere more comfortable and then flopped down on the other side of the bed and snagged the phone from the nightstand, dialing room service. He laid back with the phone cord loosely wrapped in one hand as he started to list off dish after dish and to top it all off a bottle of Ausone. A very expensive brand of wine, but a very delicious one that he could tolerate. Once that was taken care of, he rolled over and gently tugged on Francis's shoulder.

"Would you please eat with me tonight and watch a movie? I wouldn't be able to eat everything I just ordered by myself."

"Lobster has a nice aroma...I've always wanted to try it..."

Arthur smiled a bit as he rolled back over to his side. "What do you want to watch?"

"Whatever you want...I've never really kept up with media...so I don't really know what's good and what's not."

"Did you like the Clockwork Orange?"

"Haven't gotten around to reading it yet..."

"What about The Great Gatsby?"

"Next on the list..."

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"It's a classic; of course I've read it."

"Seen the movies?"

"Non...you know though, um….what's the best version of the Phantom of the Opera to watch?"

"Personally I think it's Andrew Lloyd Webber's version."

"Can we watch that then?"

Arthur nodded as he searched the movie before he found it and smiled as he heard a knock on the door. Francis sprung up almost immediately and answered the door. Thanking the man, he wheeled the cart inside and got one of the plates.

Arthur had little room to protest as Francis immediately started to set up his plate for him, the way he knew Arthur liked his plates to be fixed. He unceremoniously popped open the bottle of wine and carefully poured a half a cup of the inky blueish-purple color and smiled a bit as he took in the lovely smell. How typical of him...it was almost as if all of the French were just automatically born to be wine connoisseurs. Like it just ran in the natural instincts for them. He brought Arthur his glass and plate.

"Thanks…"

Francis nodded as he fixed himself a smaller proportioned plate as for the most part he had been starved over the last eight years, being fed just enough to keep him going and most times barely even that. So he had to start out small. He poured himself a glass as well before he situated himself on the bed next to Arthur with a napkin at his side to watch and eat.

He was silent for the most part except for small and vague comments in French every now and then as he was absolutely hooked on the silver screen in front of him. All of the characters looked exactly as he had imagined them when he was reading the book and by the end he was crying his eyes out and applauding at the same time.

Arthur took the box of tissues from the nightstand on his side and offered the box to him and he took them gratefully, wiping at his tears, but they just kept coming. It took him an hour to calm down and by that time he was exhausted….once he had washed his face and cleaned up after the both of them, he loaded up the dirty dishes on the bottom rack of the cart and disposed of the tissues he had used and settled down in the bed next to Arthur a bit uncomfortably. Arthur had already fallen back asleep although as much as he shifted this way and turned that way...the bed was just too ridiculously soft and cushy. How could someone sleep on something like this? So he took the spare blanket he had earlier and a couple of the pillows, getting situated on the couch instead..at least the couch was a lot firmer than the bed.

A/N: And that is a wrap for this chapter! Oh my God it has been so much easier and gone so much faster now that I have my own laptop to type on at any time that I want rather than having to make the trip to the library twice a week. Also the fact of something being too comfortable is a real thing. It happens to people who come from third world countries or long term prisoners. I saw it happen, when my dad came home from prison after three years he was not able to sleep with my mom in their room for about four months. He had to get used to the couch again first, and then he started to slowly get used to the bed once more.

Sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed though. ^^


End file.
